


Fly Away With Me

by nerdlife4eva



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Griffins, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Major Character Injury, Makkachin and Vicchan are Griffins, YOI Reverse Bang 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-05-28 08:06:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19389976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdlife4eva/pseuds/nerdlife4eva
Summary: Yuuri has always aspired to be a performance griffin rider just like his hero, Victor Nikiforov. After years of hard work, he finally feels ready to share the air with his greatest source of inspiration.But on the eve of the festivities, in the midst of a powerful snowstorm, Victor's griffin returns to the stables bleeding and injured without her partner.Leaving behind the safety and warmth of the aerie, Yuuri flies into the storm, determined to find Victor and bring him home.Little does he know, the storm isn't the only reason Victor needs to be saved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadhahvar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadhahvar/gifts).



> This story is inspired by the art and original idea of [shadhahvar](https://shadhahvar.tumblr.com) as part of the [2019 Yuri On Ice Big Bang](https://yurionicebigbang.tumblr.com). I feel incredibly lucky that I was able to tackle this piece, as it is very different than the other AUs I have written. Please go check out the incredible [ART](https://i.imgur.com/l0CHuUv.jpg) and [ART](https://i.imgur.com/2Iwmv7u.png) that go along with this story and give the artist all the love in the world!!! 
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr and Twitter if you are still loving YOI as much as I am!  
> [NeRdLife4Eva](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva)  
> [n3rdlif343va](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/n3rdlif343va)

All was quiet.

Standing with his eyes closed, Yuuri listened to the subtle changes of the wind moving through the trees, concentrating on the musical cadence of each swell and lull. In his mind’s eye, he pictured the course, the obstacles created to heighten the viewers’ excitement and the varying ways they could be interpreted by each team. Tall climbs with steep drops on the opposite sides, hoops which would glow when struck by the sun’s rays, and bells that swung in the breeze never quite releasing the full capacity of their sound.

Tomorrow, the racers would strike the dangling silver domes to symbolize the completion of their course while the stunt riders would use them to add mischievous emphasis to their tricks. The clang of the bells would ring through the arena, bringing both startled delight and roaring cheers from the crowd around them.

Now, the bare brush of their hanging hammers added only small hints that anything existed beyond Yuuri and his isolated stance in the middle of the deserted field.

Cold bit at Yuuri’s cheeks, prompting a shiver to ripple through his body. Despite the thickness of his gloves and socks, his fingers and toes had long ago gone numb, unneeded for the moment as Yuuri lost himself to his own daydreams.

Years had been leading up to this moment. Hard work and tattered dreams created the staircase on which Yuuri had climbed, stumbling more often than he cared to admit in his quest to the top. Inside of him, his twelve year old self was cheering, tears streaming down his pre-pubescent face and remembering when he had merely been a spectator at the event in which Yuuri would now be a star. Not _the_ star, of course, but his name would still appear in the lineup, only three places ahead of the very man who had inspired his dream in the first place.

Opening his eyes, Yuuri jumped when clashing voices collided in anger behind him. Slipping behind the closest post, Yuuri watched with pained curiosity as his idol shook off the demanding hand of his coach.

“Victor, I don’t know what you’re on about, but the weather is unpredictable. You’ll stay here.” Coach Feltsman’s voice was terrifying in its normal tone, but emphasized by the puffs of cold air billowing around him, it was absolutely nightmare inducing.

Whirling on his heel, the reigns of his beloved griffin wrapped tightly in his fist, Victor glared at the man most feared. “I-am-going.” He declared, teeth gritting together loud enough to cause his griffin to bristle. Soothing a hand down Makkachin’s neck, Victor kept stern eye contact with his coach. “You can only keep me caged for so long. Keep pushing and you’ll be without your prized show piece for tomorrow.”

Red seeped over Coach Feltsman’s face although he seemingly didn’t deem Victor’s words worthy of a response. Throwing his hands in the air, he stomped toward the barn without another comment.

Victor murmured reassurances to his griffin, throwing himself up and into the saddle when she bowed toward the ground. Within a breath they were airborne, ignoring all of the carefully-crafted structures and disappearing into the thick of the forest without ever looking back.

Stepping from his hiding place, Yuuri watched his hero disappear. The lingering sadness on Victor’s face haunted Yuuri’s mind as he turned away from the field, boots crunching as he made his way back to the stables.

* * *

A storm was coming.

The high-pitched screech of the wind as it cut across Victor’s body was the telltale sign that it wouldn’t be a mild passing squall either. Around him, the temperature dropped quickly mirroring the darkness looming overhead by the encroaching clouds. Heaviness filled the air, the kind that ripped the function from his lungs and made his breath appear like smoke curling around his shoulders.

Yet Victor refused to turn back.

Behind him were obligations and demands, hands that forced his every move and dictated his every decision. Once, flying had brought him freedom, a happiness that Victor hadn’t found anywhere else. Practice and performances were a chance to fade into a fantasy, a time when Victor could exist only as a partner to the creature he loved most in the world.

That feeling had been stolen from him, torn from his heart and his mind the very first time he had been declared the greatest stunt rider to ever occupy the skies. Those who made such statements rarely gave credit to his beloved partner, acting as if Makkachin was nothing more than a tool for Victor’s success.

When he was younger, he believed Yakov’s explanations about outsiders not understanding the intelligence and skill of his griffin. As years passed, Victor realized that it wasn’t merely a lack of knowledge, but a brand of chosen ignorance that allowed these idiotic reporters to continue to ignore the most important component of his sport. Realization had bred anger and over the last year, Victor had felt that anger grow like invasive ivy, wrapping itself around his heart, his spirit, and his motivation with the intention to strangle.

Beneath him, Makkachin clicked her beak, pulling on the bit in her mouth to get Victor’s attention. In the haze of his own thoughts, Victor hadn’t noticed that snow had begun to churn around them in bursts that were more forceful than peaceful. Narrowing his eyes, Victor guided Makkachin through the trees, never slowing their pace as he set the course for a hidden cave where they could take refuge in the storm.

Breaking through the clearing, Victor felt the strike of the invisible wall of wind before he ever saw the signs of its existence. Tossed backwards, Makkachin twisted with an agonized whine, her wing bending in an unnatural direction as she howled. Desperately, Victor clawed at her back when the reigns slipped from his hands, his fingers sliding through furry feathers as he fell from his seat.

Victor had always thought that his death would come with a montage of his life’s greatest achievements, a mental film clipped together of all his most spectacular moments. Instead his only saw the tops of trees growing smaller around him to the soundtrack of screaming gusts of wind and Makkachin’s own ear-splitting grief as Victor tumbled out of her reach toward the finality of the ground below.

Then the world was dark, empty of the emotions Victor had been seething and devoid of any sensation. Cold, hard ground caught Victor in its harsh grasp, its brutal reception the last feeling he registered before there was nothing left to feel at all.

* * *

Winter wind banged its threats viciously on the sides of the stables, causing Vicchan to whimper underneath the pressure of Yuuri’s hands. Gripping his cheeks, Yuuri gently pressed until Vicchan bowed his head allowing Yuuri to connect their foreheads together.

“It’s alright, I’m right here,” Yuuri whispered, gently carding his fingers over Vicchan’s ears and over the back of his neck. “I’ll stay with you, just listen to my voice. That’s it…” Smiling when Vicchan nuzzled into his shoulder, Yuuri looped his arms around his griffin’s neck and held him close until Vicchan stopped shaking.

They had trained for riding in winds and snow, both of them scarred from their first experience doing so and working together as a team to overcome the fear that had been born from failure. However, Vicchan had never liked being alone during any type of storm, even if he was in the company of other griffins like those snoozing in the stalls around them.

Tradition meant Yuuri would be spending the night in the stables anyway, a practice inspired by Victor Nikiforov who was famous not only for his flying but for his weird and outlandish pre-performance rituals. “Weird” and “outlandish” were the words the press used to describe habits that Yuuri saw as merely caring, confused as to why anyone would think that supporting his animal made Victor odd in any way.

From the first time Yuuri had seen Victor fly, the bond between Victor and his griffin had been undeniable. They moved as if they shared one mind, dipping and diving without the need for verbal commands or corrections. Their routine was flawless, bringing the crowd to its feet and inspiring Yuuri’s own determinations to someday find himself flying in the same skies as Victor.

His mind wandered back to the scene outside of the stables, to the fierce way Victor had stood his ground against his coach. That fire was uniquely Victor’s, ignited in his passion and deep devotion to the sport and to his partner. A flame that had always been there, even in Victor’s earliest years of flying.

And even back then, Victor’s coach had stood on the ground, appearing more like a fulfillment of a requirement for Victor to compete than a functional piece of their team puzzle. Coach Feltsman was famous in their world, held in high regard for his training regimens and unprecedented success in producing champions. Victor’s constant dismissal of his coach’s corrections and suggestions was a continuous source of fodder between the other riders, especially those training in the same facility. But Yuuri admired the way Victor could stand up for his own ideas and beliefs and often found himself wishing that he had the same conviction. He did, really, somewhere deep inside of him, but he wasn’t as brave as Victor was when it came to speaking out. 

Encouraging Vicchan to curl onto the ground, Yuuri leaned back onto the wood wall of Vicchan’s temporary home. He smiled when Vicchan’s head rested in his lap, content to comfort Vicchan as the storm outside and thoughts in Yuuri’s mind competed in volume.

Years had vanished in Yuuri’s efforts to reach Victor’s level of flying skill. He had left his family’s home to pursue his dreams, training under Coach Cialdini and passing his International Griffin Rider's Association exams only three years prior. He had been called a late bloomer, but his reputation had been steadily building since his first performance. The sheen had been tarnished after his spectacular failure in this same event last year, but through sheer determination, Yuuri had found himself returning to the scene of his greatest embarrassment.

A huff from Vicchan made Yuuri refocus, bending forward to place quick kisses over the crest of his partner’s beak. Most riders loved their animals, although few would be found sleeping in a stall the night before their most challenging performance of the year. Knowing that Vicchan loved the company as much as Yuuri needed it to ground himself, Yuuri never allowed the whispers of his competitors to dissuade his need to sleep among the hay.

“You and me,” he murmured to Vicchan, closing his eyes to focus on the rhythm of their shared heartbeats, letting the rattle of the storm fade into the background.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Sighing, Yuuri conceited his solitude as he turned his head to peer at his best friend.

Phichit stood at the door of Vicchan’s stall, his hair poking out from underneath a beanie Yuuri knew had been knitted by Phichit’s mother. His smile was bright and sunny, warm in spite of the coldness that competition should inspire. Phichit had the inability to shut down his friendliness, even on the eve of a match and he smiled fondly at Yuuri as he leaned his arms on the top of the door. “Snow’s getting pretty crazy,” nodding toward the window to Yuuri’s left, Phichit fiddled with the ends of his gloves. “I overheard the coaches talking about the possibility of postponing the races tomorrow. Performances too.”

Sitting up, Yuuri craned his neck to get a better look at the outside world. Though dark, it was evident how quickly the snow was pouring from the sky, causing Yuuri to frown. “They don’t think it’s going to pass?” If he had to shovel the course himself, Yuuri would do so. Too much time and effort had gone into getting himself back here and there wasn’t a chance in frozen hell that he was going to let his opportunity be ruined by a little snow.

“There is already a foot on the ground, and they say another two will come before it stops. So clean up maybe tomorrow and then move forward the next day.” Phichit moved as he talked, disappearing into the stall next to Yuuri’s to seemingly check on his own partner.

His voice was muffled for a second leaving Yuuri confused and frustrated when he couldn’t hear the rest of Phichit’s comments. Normally, he ignored all of the other rider’s speculations about conditions so Phichit never shared any of it directly with him. Unless, of course, there were solid facts supporting his reports. Chewing on his bottom lip, Yuuri patted Vicchan once more before untangling himself from their cuddled position and moving toward the wall shared with Phichit’s griffin.

Before Yuuri could ask Phichit any of the questions gathering in his mind, the stable doors flew open, bringing with them the rumpled form of Victor’s griffin trapped in a hurricane of icy wind and raining snow.

A deep whine rumbled from Makkachin’s chest as she collapsed on the wood floor, her body shivering as her eyes struggled to remain open. Hastily grabbing the first aid kit Yuuri kept for Vicchan, he threw himself out of the stall while shouting for Phichit’s help. Together they forced the doors shut, closing out the howling storm before rounding on Victor’s injured animal.

Dropping to his knees, Yuuri whispered softly, asking Makkachin for her permission to treat her. At the glimmer of tears in her eyes, Yuuri felt his heart sink, the sorrow and sadness flooding through him as she whined again. Wordlessly pointing to Phichit, Yuuri showed him wear to support as they lifted Makkachin together and moved into her assigned sleeping quarters.

“Yuuri…” Phichit pleaded, one hand gripping the muscle of Yuuri’s upper arm, the shaking of Phichit’s fingers was undeniable where they squeezed him. Shaking his head, Yuuri moved away and knelt once again at Makkachin’s side.

The feathers of her left wing were bent at an angle that made Yuuri’s stomach curdle. There was a gash in her side bleeding profusely and staining the beautiful silver of her coat with sickening redness. Several of her talons were broken, splintered in a way that made Yuuri wince as he carefully slid her warming blankets underneath and around her.

With every movement, Yuuri talked, explaining what he was doing and quietly reassuring Makkachin that she was going to be okay. He wouldn’t be able to care for all of her injuries and he stated this out loud, begging Phichit to call Victor’s trainer while he carefully cleaned the blood from Makkachin’s side.

Cautiously, he pulled the sticks and leaves from the places where they were tangled in Makkachin’s fur, nearly crying when he pulled one from the pad of her foot and watched another river of blood pour onto the ground. Whatever Makkachin had faced must have been ruthless and Yuuri felt the tears building in his eyes as he began to carefully clip away her shredded talons.

A nip at his elbow made Yuuri flinch and he quickly apologized when Makkachin pulled away from him. “What is it, girl?” Yuuri asked, pausing in his efforts to care for her to lean over her head. A small, exhausted trill was Yuuri’s answer, accompanied with the wetness of tears running down his arm.

Phichit’s feet appeared in Yuuri’s eye line, his voice shaky as he said, “Lilia is on her way.” Sensing there was more Phichit wanted to say, Yuuri stayed quiet, feeling the dread bleeding into every part of his heart. “But Yuuri…”

Yuuri didn’t want to look up. He saw the edge of the snapped strap scraping the floor between Phichit’s feet and knew what he would see if he lifted his gaze. “Is he alive?” he asked Makkachin, pleading for any sort of confirmation.

The closing of her eyes pushed more tears down her cheek, but the lack of answer told Yuuri she wasn’t positive of Victor’s fate. Feeling resolve burst through him, Yuuri wrapped his arms around her and made a promise that had Phichit gasping.

“Stay with her, okay?” Yuuri exchanged a pillow for his lap as he stood to move around Makkachin’s injured form. “Let Lilia know what I have already done.”

Pushing past Phichit, Yuuri ignored his friend’s garbled protests, striding toward Vicchan who was already standing and shaking out his wings. There was fear mixed with concern in Vicchan’s eyes, but determination straightened his spine and had him nudging Yuuri’s saddle from its hook. Vicchan nodded when Yuuri asked him if he was sure, the hard edge of his beak poking Yuuri’s cheek in validation.

“You can’t do this!” Phichit’s arms flapped in the air as he rushed into Vicchan’s stall, hands fluttering as if they were intent on ripping the saddle from Vicchan’s back. “Yuuri, you don’t know if he’s even alive. Or where he is. Are you willing to die… for him?”

The windows of the stable rattled as if to emphasize Phichit’s point, the doors banging on their hinges in their effort to remain closed against the assault of the wind. Cinching the buckle around Vicchan’s middle, Yuuri set his jaw as he rounded to face his best friend.

“Would you go out there… if it was me?”

The question was unfair, and the logical part of Yuuri’s mind knew that. Phichit had been his best friend since they had both moved to train with Coach Cialdini and their relationship was the strongest Yuuri had ever had. Comparing Phichit’s loyalty to him to his hero worship for Victor wasn’t playing nice, but Yuuri had no time to mince words.

Stepping aside, Phichit let Yuuri pass, sighing as Yuuri pulled on his coat and secured his riding goggles before yanking on his helmet. There were arguments flashing in Phichit’s eyes, but the sag of his shoulders spoke of understood defeat. He followed Yuuri silently, holding out Yuuri’s emergency bag and making the guilt flare inside of Yuuri alongside his stubbornness.

At the doors to the stables, Yuuri paused, hesitating only a second before pulling Phichit into a hug. “Someone has to care… I can do this, Phichit.” He felt Phichit’s hum vibrate in his chest, squeezing tighter for only a moment before releasing his best friend and mounting his griffin. Adjusting the straps of the bag on his back, Yuuri bent down to secure the bags stitched into Vicchan’s saddle. “Please take care of Makkachin. I’ll see you soon.” Knowing that his promise was potentially empty in its legitimacy, Yuuri turned away from Phichit’s gaze as his best friend opened the heavy stable door.

Leaving behind warmth and safety, Yuuri and Vicchan burst forth into the storm, following the direction Victor had taken earlier, neither of them knowing whether they would ever return.

* * *

Soreness bore into Yuuri’s limbs as he guided Vicchan toward the ground again, a slow decline which was fought by the fierceness of the storm. Flying at their normal height had proven nearly impossible, and Yuuri had been carefully rotating between weaving through the tree branches and barely grazing over the floor of the forest. Even the cover of the trees could only provide so much protection and Yuuri could feel his body aching for a chance to rest.

Time had ceased to be relevant, minutes fading into hours as Yuuri and Vicchan battled with Mother Nature’s coldest temper tantrum. Snow stuck to Vicchan’s wings and Yuuri’s coat, weighing them down as they continued to fight forward. Although his sense of direction was severely hampered by the whiteout conditions, Yuuri knew in his gut that they were headed in the right direction.

A clearing appeared through the trees, like an oasis in a desert. Urging Vicchan onward, Yuuri nearly lunged from his back when he spotted a partially covered mound at the opposite edge.

Dismounting, Yuuri stumbled on the slippery ground, smiling gratefully when Vicchan caught him and stabilized him with the gentle push of his head. Trekking forward, Yuuri’s knees shook when his eyes landed on Victor’s face.

His lifeless body was propped over the roots of a tree, his head higher than his shoulders, despite the odd angle of his torso. From his mid-chest down, Victor’s body was covered in snow, and Yuuri felt the worst of his fears scrambling for purchase inside of his throat.

Pushing away the need to be sick, Yuuri began to dig, uncovering as much of Victor as he could and then standing to drape Victor over his side. Relieved when Vicchan bowed before him, offering his own back for Victor’s transport, Yuuri carefully hefted Victor over his saddle. Not a single sound escaped Victor as Yuuri moved him, and Yuuri decidedly didn’t check for a heartbeat for fear of what he wouldn’t find.

A rush of wind pushed Yuuri from behind, sending him crashing into Vicchan’s hind quarters. Although the storm had been raging for hours, its strength only seemed to be increasing instead of finally tailing off in its assault on the world. Frantically, Yuuri moved away from Vicchan’s side, eyes squinting underneath his goggles and widening when he spotted an opening in front of him.

Grabbing Vicchan’s reigns, Yuuri pulled him toward the possible shelter, praying as he struggled to walk that it wasn’t inhabited by an unfriendly host.

With the world silent except for the muted sounds of their feet struggling over the snow and the hollow screams of the storm above them, Yuuri and Vicchan made their way toward the cave, hope acting as their only motivation for every struggling step.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does dragging Victor into a cave and not knowing what to do next mean that Yuuri has actually saved him? 
> 
> Yuuri's really not sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note, this chapter does non-descriptively describe pain and does mention vomiting. None of it is overly graphic, but it does exist.

Traipsing across the small distance to the cave opening took an alarming amount of time and effort, leaving both Vicchan and Yuuri struggling to keep their heads up as they finally breached the cave’s opening. Light from the outside barely peeked through the low hanging branches which protected the entrance, shrouding them in dimness but also provided significant protection from the unforgiving elements. Yuuri squinted, rubbing a hand uselessly over the lenses of his riding goggles while trying to take in the expanse of the space around them. Patting Vicchan’s beak, Yuuri left his griffin with his precious cargo at the mouth of the cave.

Exploring the depths of their discovered shelter, Yuuri deemed it free of any hostile creatures and deep enough to provide them some warmth in spite of the relentless thrashing winds. Tugging Vicchan’s reigns, Yuuri gently guided him to the furthest point from the opening, encouraging him to lower to the ground as Yuuri supported Victor’s unconscious form.

Laying Victor over the cradle of Vicchan’s neck, Yuuri set to work removing Vicchan’s saddle and retrieving the blanket rolled at the bottom of his bag. Emergency supplies were a go-to lesson for all of Coach Cialdini’s students and Yuuri had never been so glad to be in that category as he was in that moment. Rearranging Victor at Vicchan’s side, Yuuri quickly removed Victor’s soaked coat, shoes and socks, replacing them with the blanket and a spare pair of Yuuri’s wool socks. Satisfied with the first steps in his anxiously looping mental plan, Yuuri moved away to gather wood to start a fire.

Even though it was illogical, Yuuri continued to refrain from checking Victor for a pulse.

Surely his mother would have been disappointed in his purposeful avoidance of this simple evaluation, but Yuuri’s denial wouldn’t allow him to complete the task. As long as he didn’t take the time to press two fingers to the location where Victor’s heartbeat should be thrumming in his veins, there was no reason to believe Victor wasn’t alive. The world wasn’t ready to lose a hero like Victor, and Yuuri knew that his heart couldn’t bear the thought either. Relying on Vicchan to watch over Victor’s body, Yuuri moved through the cave, gathering all the available supplies to hopefully build a sufficient fire.

Determination fueled Yuuri’s strength as he dug into the frozen cave floor, removing dirt and patting down the rounded edges of the hole. Removing the heaviest part of his emergency supplies, Yuuri examined the log, grateful now that his coach had insisted on all his riders making this seemingly ridiculous purchase.

Coach Cialdini had lectured them over and over ( _and over_ ) about the chances of being stranded without resources, especially with the daredevil training tactics of some riders which took them farther from the facility than others. There had been a lot of mumbling from seasoned veterans about not needing a cheating tool such as a log guaranteed to burn, but caught in a cave where the best Yuuri could find was a stack of kindling, he had never been more ready to support his coach’s odd requirements.

Carefully, Yuuri constructed his fire as he had been taught to do in his youth, wondering with each added branch what his dad would think of his use of this skill under his current level of duress. Yuuri’s fingers shook, whether from the cold or his rapidly crashing adrenaline, causing him to pause to breathe before attempting to strike his first match.

Three matches perished before Yuuri was able to catch the flame to his stack of kindling. In his exhausted haze, Yuuri could only slump back and lose himself to the alluring dance of the flickering fire. A cruel thread of logic began to weave through his brain, a sharp needle poking annoyingly at all of Yuuri’s senses. Hesitantly he glanced in Victor’s direction, studying the slumped body of the once graceful man.

Vicchan’s eyes met his own, sleepy from their flight and worried in ways Yuuri refused to recognize. Gently he angled his head, nudging Victor’s side with the curve of his beak.

A small wheeze, just the barest hint of breath, whispered its way from Victor’s chest barely breaking the slight part of his frozen lips. There was no movement beyond the sound, but as Yuuri kept his narrow gaze focused on Victor’s chest, the tiniest rise and fall was unmistakable even in the wavering light.

The soft click of Vicchan’s beak broke Yuuri’s trance and he once again found himself exchanging silent arguments with his griffin. With a shake of his head, Yuuri refused Vicchan’s urges to have Yuuri curl up beside Victor to share the griffin’s warmth. “Sleep,” he demanded, squaring his shoulders and sitting more firmly in his place. His smile twitched when Vicchan’s exasperated sigh blew a few leaves into the fire.

Curled into a ball around his own knees, Yuuri tried to release the tension still curled inside of his chest. He had succeeded in pulling Victor out of the snow, but there was no way to know what kind of injuries were hiding under the cover of Victor’s clothing. Yuuri had no idea how far he had fallen or how long he had been buried and his mind was doing a terrible job of allowing him to reassure himself.

For now, Victor was here. The sounds of his breathing were weak and Yuuri was positive that Victor had never been this pale, but he told himself that he had come this far and backing down now was not an option.

Somehow, he would get them out of this sorry excuse for a shelter. Somehow, he would get Victor proper care. Yuuri wasn’t exactly sure how to do either of those things, but he would find a way.

He had to. 

* * *

_He was falling. The sky above him was rapidly shrinking, trees bowing around him as he sped uncontrollably to the ground. Frantically, he grabbed at anything he could, realizing too late that none of the hands reaching out were willing to catch him. Crashing, he felt the world go black, his body instantly absorbing the strike that seared through him._

Jolting awake, Victor tried to claw at the fabric around his neck, but his arms wouldn’t come to his aid. Every part of him felt heavy, and his panic ignited like a forest fire determined to decimate everything inside of him.

“Stop, stop, you’re ok!”

Blinking, Victor tried to clear the fog of his dream from his mind, the concern and softness of the beautiful face in front of him breaking through like the sun’s rays. “Did I die?” he asked, startled by how rough his voice sounded. “Are you my angel?” He frowned when the beautiful face skittered away from him, moaning as he tried to make his body follow. “Come back…” he pleaded, slumping backwards onto whatever was holding him up.

Tears welled in his eyes as Victor felt the tickle of familiar fur on the back of his neck. “Makkachin, did you die too?” he asked, twisting in an attempt to bury his face against his griffin. Emotional confusion made his tears spill, the sob tangling in his throat as his eyes landed on white fur instead of silver. “Who…?”

Coherent thoughts fled his mind as Victor began to cry, each breath more shattered than the last. The pins and needles ran stabbing patterns up his limbs, adding to the upset already spilling over inside of him. “Angel? Angel? Where are you?” he begged, flopping his entire body over and feeling a rush of cold race up his back.

Tender hands skated over his side, gathering the edge of warmth and tucking it over his coldness. His heart thudded weakly in his chest, the sound registering with a dull throb in his temples. “Don’t leave me,” Victor prayed, his eyes drooping despite his desire to fight the talons of sleepiness.

Darkness dragged him back in, the promise of nightmares returning as Victor was torn away from reality once again.

Sitting on his heels, Yuuri felt his own confusion tightening into a knot in his stomach. Victor certainly wasn’t himself, the tears and the weak cries did not correlate with any exposure Yuuri had ever had to the man. Options flicked through his mind, dangers of concussions and hypothermia taking the top spots on Yuuri’s list of paranoia.

Part of him wanted to wake Victor, to shake him out of whatever was causing Victor to unconsciously whimper into Vicchan’s side. His other half thought it would be better to allow Victor to continue to sleep, knowing that once Victor was conscious, there could possibly be an overwhelming amount of pain to greet him.

Torn between the options of bad and potentially worse, Yuuri carefully brushed the hair away from Victor’s forehead, eyes flicking over the exposed portion of Victor’s face for bruises or gashes. All he found was the same stunningly beautiful face he had loved for most of his life, painted with a brush of frozen paleness. When Victor shifted to curl into Yuuri’s body, he felt his panic rise to meet his desire to comfort, both of them swinging swords of indecision.

A hum, low and pleased instead of agonized danced over Yuuri’s chin, making him shiver. Consenting to his role of living body heater, Yuuri finally allowed himself to settle into Vicchan’s side, wrapping his arms more firmly around Victor to provide any comfort he could. 

With his eyes sliding toward the opening of the cave, Yuuri barely processed the building cover of snow blocking them in before his own fatigue swallowed him into sleep.

* * *

Warmth on the right side of his body had Victor sighing, snuggling closer to whoever was cuddling him with such loving arms. Dreams like this one were far more enjoyable than the nightmares his subconscious normally offered and Victor purred with happiness as his dream mind gave him the one thing he craved most.

A gruff snort invaded his peaceful bubble, causing a contradictory clash to the heated bed of Victor’s subconscious imagination. Chill chased over his skin, the sensation threatening to break through Victor’s imaginary comfort and making him pout as he began to shiver.

Reality crashed around him, his eyes flying open to discover the somehow familiar hue of a brown coat beneath his cheek. The hold of his dream existed here too, one wrapped around his shoulders while other clung heavily to his waist. Instead of pulling away like his mind’s alarm bells wanted him to do, Victor curled closer before sneaking a peek at the face of his cuddler.

The man’s cheeks were pink, his riding goggles pushed up into a disheveled head of unruly black hair, and his dark lashes settled delicately on the curve of his cheekbones. His chest crested and fell under Victor’s head, his breathing uneven despite his state of unconsciousness.

Breathtaking was the only word Victor could think of. Even rumpled and possibly wind-burnt, Yuuri Katsuki was an absolutely stunning vision.

For a moment, Victor let himself fantasize that their position was purposeful, that they had run away together in hopes of finding something more than performances in common between them. Visions of the bed from Victor’s dreamscape resurfaced in his mind, his imagination painting them there instead of wherever they were now.

_Wait._

Pieces of Victor’s fantasy crumbled as he sat up, the dangerous swirl of his mind and flop of his stomach making him nearly collapse again. Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, Victor rocked himself forward trying to remember any detail about how he got there.

Nothing came to him beyond the last moments of his memory which sickeningly reminded him of Makkachin’s mutilated wing and the sounds of her cries as he fell from her grasp. His stomach rolled, and Victor stumbled to his knees, instantly missing the heat of Yuuri’s body as he lurched forward to vomit while braced against the nearest cave wall.

From his place at Vicchan’s side, Yuuri woke with a start, reacting to the sudden coldness and the echo of Victor’s pained retching. Uncurling his legs, Yuuri reached for his bag, scooting it closer so he could remove his canister while respectfully averting his eyes from Victor’s heaving back. Worry had him wanting to move closer to Victor, to encourage him to sit back or to support him in some way. Awkwardly, he remained frozen on his knees, stuck between the fire and Victor’s bent body, wondering exactly what he was supposed to do now.

“Water?” he asked, flushing when Victor slumped backwards, barely catching himself on Vicchan’s outstretched neck. Yuuri tried to avoid looking at the blood already freezing on the ground at the seam of the wall. “I… have… food too. And medicine… I don’t know… I mean I didn’t…” His fumbling brain wouldn’t allow him to complete any thoughts, caught between not knowing what to say because this was _Victor_ and wanting to do anything in his power to provide Victor comfort.

Weakly, Victor motioned toward the offered container, whispering a choked sentiment of gratitude before pouring the liquid down his throat. It stung, causing Victor to grimace as he lowered the bottle to rest on the ground at his side. “You wouldn’t happen… to have… a… toothbrush?” Closing his eyes, Victor felt the world start to spin again. For the first time he was alone with Yuuri without the prying eyes of his team and he had chosen this moment to feel closer to dead than alive. _Just my luck_ , Victor thought bitterly, pushing away the pain trying to wave red flags in his mind in an effort to converse like a normal person.

Confused, Yuuri tilted his head and blinked at Victor, trying to process the question and the small smirk it brought to Victor’s face. Shaking his head, Yuuri nodded back towards his bag. “No toothbrush, but I do have mouthwash.” Vaguely he scolded his past self for not replacing his emergency toothbrush when he had to use it during his last performance, his own horrible habit of stress puking generally causing the overturn of this item more than he wanted to admit. His internal reprimands halted, when Victor huffed a gruff laugh. Turning unbelieving eyes in Victor’s direction, Yuuri had to internally restrain himself from reaching for Victor when he started to move.

“Ciao Ciao’s infamous emergency bags…” Trailing off, Victor tried to straighten himself. Despite his best efforts to straighten himself, his whole body wobbled as every part of him screamed in protest.

Catching Victor before he could slump onto the ground, Yuuri determinedly looked at the dirt rather than concentrating on the weight of Victor’s body on his own. He couldn’t quite follow what was happening, but Yuuri tried to go along with Victor’s attempts for lighthearted conversation.

“Ciao Ciao… I thought we were the only ones who call him that… and never to his face…” Yuuri felt the flush of heat rush over him when Victor leaned heavier on his shoulder and the gentle brush of his laugh skittered over Yuuri’s neck. “Come on… slide back on Vic-” Clamping his mouth shut, Yuuri refused to say his griffin’s name out loud, his eyes lowering again when he heard Vicchan react with an amused snort.

“Vicchan?” Victor supplied, taking advantage of Yuuri’s closeness by wrapping his arm around Yuuri’s waist. Of course he knew the origin of his griffin namesake and couldn’t help feeling his weakened heart flutter at the blush spreading over Yuuri’s cheeks. Using his weakness as an excuse to press closer, Victor almost sighed at the strength of Yuuri’s hold on his body.

In flight, Yuuri always looked powerful but it was nothing compared to the solid muscles Victor could feel flexing beneath Yuuri’s coat. He laughed again when Yuuri made a squawking noise, barely catching himself when Yuuri almost unceremoniously dumped him back toward the ground. The adorable pink of Yuuri’s blush was almost enough to distract Victor from the internal screaming of his body.

Refusing to look at Victor, Yuuri untangled himself to move away. Maybe Victor really did have a concussion, or a giant bleed in his brain. Massive head trauma was the only explanation Yuuri could reason would make Victor so eager to be in his space and joking at a time like this. Settling on the other side of the fire, Yuuri dragged his bag into his lap and kept his eyes trained toward the buckles of each pocket.

His back could feel the hint of the storm still raging outside, but it was better than trying to control himself underneath Victor’s touch. “How… how do you know his name?” Yuuri asked, digging into his bag and searching for whatever was still left of his food stash along with the small bottle of mouthwash.

Victor was caught off guard when the small green bottle was tossed into his lap. He smiled at the mouthwash, feeling more relaxed than he should, given that he was a few details short of understanding what was going on. “I know all the names of my biggest competitors.” He wasn’t going to mention the fact that he knew Yuuri’s stats ( _specifically_ ) because his admiration of Yuuri came daringly close to being called a crush.

The heat of Victor’s cheeks at his own thoughts was warmer than any part of his body, causing Victor to pluck the mouthwash bottle from his lap as a means of distraction. Breaking the seal with his sore hands, Victor tipped the lip of the bottle to his mouth, gargling the stinging liquid before regretfully swallowing the mouthful. Gagging slightly around the taste, Victor shook his head and replaced the cap, hissing as he lowered his arm to his lap and felt all of his muscles protest.

Blanking, Yuuri watched in horror as Victor swallowed, his own throat constricting around the phantom taste of the neon green fluid. In delay, his mind repeated Victor’s words, leaving Yuuri staring at him with an open-mouth gape.

Misinterpreting Yuuri’s shocked look, Victor winced as he shrugged. “I know I shouldn’t drink this stuff, but it felt rude to spit.” Setting the bottle side, Victor felt slightly uneasy under Yuuri’s stare, immediately wondering how disheveled he really looked. Lifting a hand to comb through his hair, Victor grimaced at the sharp stab in his side.

Gingerly he started to mentally assess the aches and pains coursing through him, all of them growing harder to ignore now that he wasn’t frozen and disoriented. No matter how much he wanted to be normal in his miraculous alone time with Yuuri, the glaring reality of the state of his body was impossible to set aside. Defeat settled heavy over him as Victor felt himself succumbing to the bodily damage of his mistakes. “I fell.”

Two words dropped the small bit of conversation they were attempting into heavy silence. Victor’s mind returned to the moment before he was separated from Makkachin, his brain doing a terrible job at replaying the disjointed video of memory in his mind. As if his mind was only realizing the extent of his body’s brokenness, Victor took a sharp breath and leaned back harder into Vicchan’s support.

Staring at the roof of the cave, Victor felt his sickness rise again, bringing with it a question he needed answered but was terrified to ask. Humor and aloofness were his default defense mechanisms, but the overwhelming crashes of emotion and physical hurt made it impossible to maintain his façade.

Curling one hand over his stomach, Victor bit the inside of his cheek before speaking. “Where… where… Makkachin…” he heard the whimper in his voice and tried to stamp it down. Not even five minutes ago, Victor had been able to shake off his own vomiting and converse with Yuuri. Now his emotions were rushing through him, dragging with them shockwaves of pain as if his body was finally fully awakening to realize what it had been through. Curling his fingers to press tightly against his palm, Victor tried to center himself. “Where’s my girl?”

Abandoning his bag, Yuuri felt compelled to move closer to Victor. If it had been Vicchan, Yuuri would have been more concerned for his partner’s safety than his own, giving him an inkling of the feelings that must be tearing away at Victor’s insides.

Laying a hand on Victor’s knee Yuuri waited until Victor hesitantly looked away from the ceiling to speak. “She made it back.” Relief flooded Victor’s face and made Yuuri want to lie about the condition in which he had left her. Unable to form the dishonest words, Yuuri squeezed Victor’s knee once. “Her wing was hurt and she had some other injuries, but Lilia and Phichit were caring for her when I…”

How could he explain to Victor that Yuuri had simply mounted his own griffin and thrown himself headlong into a storm that had nearly killed the most skillful rider to ever live? Even sitting here now, with Victor alive and ethereally beautiful in the eerie light of the fire, the idea sounded absolutely insane. Biting his lip, Yuuri’s eyes fell to his hand when Victor covered it with his own.

Warmth spread through Victor that had nothing to do with any external sensations. They had never spoken more than a few cursory words to each other, yet somehow Yuuri was here and had seemingly saved Victor’s life. In all the ways he had imagined that they would meet someday, none of them were quite as dramatic and romantic as Yuuri being his real life knight in shining armor. Daringly, Victor ran his fingertips over the silver of exposed skin around Yuuri’s wrist, watching as Yuuri’s fingers flinched over his leg. “You came to save me.”

Saying it out loud made Victor realize how unbelievable it felt to have anyone care that much. Yuuri’s small nod, humble and almost bashful, made Victor want to throw himself forward into Yuuri’s arms. The soreness and stiffness determined to overwhelm him prevented any such action, so Victor settled for reaching up to brush his fingers over Yuuri’s cheek. “You saved me.”

“I mean… not yet…” Shrugging, Yuuri looked over his shoulder toward the cave entrance. Snow was piled in a drift mound, covering a decent portion of their only exit. It was hard to tell from where he sat, especially without the aid of his glasses or goggles, but his heart told him that getting home wouldn’t be an easy feat. A tug on his ear had Yuuri’s head whipping back to face Victor.

“Thank you.” Gratitude made Victor’s heartbeat accelerate, beating faster than should be allowed considering how badly bruised it had felt. And that was before he had taken a dive onto the ground and woken up partially frozen in a cave.

The moment hung between them, Victor’s hand coming to rest on Yuuri’s neck and Yuuri’s cheeks flushing hotter from the way Victor was peering at him. Desperately Yuuri tried to come up with another response, anything he could say that would feel appropriate.

Before his thoughts could form a line of coherency, Victor’s eyes were drooping. A mumbled “hold me, Yuuri…” whispered from his still bluish lips as Victor wilted closer to Yuuri in his unconsciousness.

Unable to convince himself to do anything else, Yuuri accepted Victor into his arms once again and settled into Vicchan’s side. Determination kept him awake this time, a constant loop of thoughts about exactly how he was going to live up to the title of savior.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to say a quick thank you to those who are reading this story! I know it is a little different than the fluff I normally write, but I really enjoyed creating this world and I really, really appreciate everyone who has taken a chance on it! 
> 
> I'm sorry for the pain that is ahead, it is definitely a far cry from my average story line. I try to inject some sweetness where I can... 
> 
> I will post the next chapter of this on Wednesday. I meant to post this chapter last Wednesday, but I was without internet for a few days!

Regaining consciousness was a swim through deep murky water, the light at the surface blurred by the gloomy barrier blocking Victor’s reentry into the world. His eyelids felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and refusal to acknowledge Victor’s desire to be awake. Whimpering, Victor tried to shift himself, feeling the fire spindle from his core through his limbs with every slight movement. Winded, he let himself fall back against Vicchan, vision slowly clearing to reveal a lone form standing near the cave entrance.

Yuuri Katsuki. Quiet, gorgeous, talented Yuuri Katsuki. Victor had watched every moment of Yuuri’s climb through the performance ranks, feeling every failure and every success despite never having the courage to introduce himself properly. Not that he would have been _allowed_ to introduce himself, but that was another issue entirely.

Gingerly tilting his head, Victor watched curiously as Yuuri moved around. Their shared space was smaller than Victor had originally perceived it to be, his position near the rear cave wall not nearly as far from the opening as he had thought and giving him an excellent advantage point of whatever Yuuri was up to. Yuuri’s movement looked hesitant, bending and moving as he appeared to survey the snow currently blocking their only way out. Even in this, Yuuri was graceful, his body moving with a steady strength that made Victor feel mesmerized.

If Victor had been in better shape, he would have allowed himself to swoon over their current circumstances. Trapped in a cave, no one but the two of them, after Yuuri had flown into a storm to rescue Victor from his doomed fate. A smile attempted to twitch to life on Victor’s lips, a reaction to the fantasized version of their reality.

An unexpected whimper slipped from him when Victor moved to sit up, causing Yuuri to whirl around. For a moment, Victor was able to ignore the protests of his body as he bent himself forward to brace his elbows on his knees. “Good morning,” Victor attempted to joke, wincing at the gravely sound of his own voice.

“Morning,” Yuuri responded, eyes studying Victor’s stiff movements through the lenses of his riding goggles.

Biting his tongue, Yuuri decided it was best not to mention the amount of time that had passed since Victor had fallen asleep tucked into Yuuri’s arms. The sun had long ago risen and passed its highest point, gifting Yuuri enough light to properly assess how screwed they truly were. And boy, were they absolutely _screwed_.

Abandoning his hopeless task of freeing them from the cave, Yuuri crossed carefully around his fire to drop to the ground at Victor’s side. The flames of the fire were now purple, a signal that they were down to their last few hours of guaranteed warmth. While the thought was alarming, the purpling bruises raised to the surface of Victor’s cheek and the robotic way Victor moved were more so. Instinctually, Yuuri raised his arm, welcoming Victor back into his hold.

Sighing into Yuuri’s embrace felt like Victor’s only natural reaction to the comfort he found held close to Yuuri’s side. Letting himself nuzzle his face into Yuuri’s shoulder, Victor tried to ignore the sting of his skin were it pulled over his jaw. “Vicchan should stand. Stretch his wings and such.” Never in his life could he remember speaking feeling quite so draining. His chest burned through each word, never fully capturing a complete breath. Still, he couldn’t help worrying about the condition of Yuuri’s griffin given how much time he had potentially spent curled on the ground.

Flutters filled Yuuri’s heart. Repositioning himself and Victor, Yuuri leaned them away from Vicchan and simply commanded “up” with two clicks of his tongue.

Vicchan was slow to rise, unfurling his wings carefully so as not to blow a breeze over the fire. Yuuri scrutinized the way Vicchan lifted each of his legs, watching closely as Vicchan stretched each limb and walked a careful trail over what little ground was available. He raised an eyebrow when Vicchan snorted at the cave entrance, lifting one hoof to stomp into the snow bank.

“Trapped?” Victor asked, turning his head slightly to peer up at Yuuri. Every vertebrae in his neck and spine were screaming their misery, but Victor shoved the sensations away as he reached up to trace the strap of Yuuri’s goggles. “Where are your glasses?” Briefly he felt Yuuri’s cheek brush over the inside of his palm and Victor longed for the strength to hold his hand in place. Unfortunately, his arm dropped into Yuuri’s lap before Victor could regain his control of it.

“I only have these,” he answered, embarrassed to admit that in his haste to find Victor, he hadn’t thought to grab his glasses from the ledge in Vicchan’s stall. Shoving the goggles into his hair again, Yuuri blurrily marveled at the way Victor was looking at him.

Yuuri almost wished that he _was_ wearing normal glasses. With the goggles on he could see the dark flecks of blue dancing inside of Victor’s light blue eyes and the way Victor’s beauty still existed even with the speckles of bruising marring his perfect face, but even with their benefits the goggles provided an awkward obstacle between them.

Victor’s fingers brushing over the side of his face again had set Yuuri’s heart racing and he almost forgot that Victor had asked him more than one question. Startling slightly when Victor’s touch dropped away, Yuuri tried to focus his thoughts when Victor’s hand landed with a thud on his leg.

Glancing over his shoulder, Yuuri frowned as Vicchan continued to kick at the snow wall. “We’re mostly trapped,” Yuuri admitted, trying to keep the worry out of his voice, “but I’ll figure it out.” Truthfully, Yuuri had been trying to come up with a plan for the better part of several hours and had felt fairly hopeless until Vicchan had put his own plan into action. A plan that seemingly consisted of barreling through the snow drift by the sheer strength of his own legs.

“It’s ok…” Victor slowly turned his hand over to rest his palm over Yuuri’s thigh. “I like being here with you. I feel safe.” The thought was spoken before Victor could stop himself, and for once he was grateful for the disappearance of his normal filter. Nothing about their current situation was _normal_ and Victor wasn’t about to follow the asinine protocol that normally dictated his life. Especially if there was a chance that the end of his life was coming sooner than he expected.

The swoop of Yuuri’s stomach was sudden at Victor’s admission, a mixture of guilt and confusion sloshing with the hopeful longing. Pushing the latter aside, Yuuri told himself that Victor was too injured and out of it to know what he was saying. “You need a healer,” Yuuri commented, pushing his hand flat on Victor’s forehead and feeling the rush of heat from Victor’s skin. The fever was a sharp contrast to the cold radiating from Victor’s fingers where they were curled over the thickest part of Yuuri’s leg. “I have… some medicine… it might help a little bit.” In the back of his mind, Yuuri heard his mother’s voice warning Yuuri about masking Victor’s symptoms, but he couldn’t ignore his instinct to keep Victor comfortable.

Not waiting for a response, Yuuri whistled to get Vicchan’s attention. His griffin shook his head at Yuuri’s call, turning to give the snow one last defiant kick with his hind legs. Passively, Yuuri acknowledged that Vicchan’s methods were probably their best way out, but only after Yuuri was able to stabilize Victor in at least some small way.

The thought of Victor flying right now, even braced between himself and Vicchan, made fearful dread wash through Yuuri’s chest. His mission had been to save Victor, not to shake up his already damaged insides with a careless flight. Flying was inevitable, but Yuuri could avoid the thought of it for another few hours.

Nodding his head behind Victor, Yuuri clicked at Vicchan to guide him toward the ground. With his free hand Yuuri stroked Vicchan’s beak, whispering quiet gratitude as Vicchan rearranged himself to offer Victor support once again. Understanding shimmered in Vicchan’s eyes and for a moment, Yuuri could only silently press a kiss to the bridge of Vicchan’s beak unable to voice how much he valued Vicchan’s willingness to help.

Emotions swam heavily in Victor’s heart, the love between Yuuri and his griffin so closely mirroring Victor’s own love for Makkachin. Every rider cared for their animal, but not every rider subscribed to the concept of an emotionally strong bond. Clearly, Yuuri believed as Victor did, and the realization that all of Victor’s assumptions were true made tears well into the corners of his eyes.

Laughter filled the cave briefly when Vicchan pulled away to nudge at the side of Yuuri’s head, a low grumble vibrating Vicchan’s belly. Time had passed in more of an anxious blur than Yuuri wanted to acknowledge and he supposed that feeding both his griffin and Victor should be next on his list of priorities. The swift snip of a beak at his elbow had Yuuri rolling his eyes, shifting his body so he could ease Victor back onto Vicchan’s side.

The sight of unshed tears catching in Victor’s eyelashes made Yuuri freeze. “Victor?” he asked, voice hushed as he felt the concern rush through him.

Settling backwards, Victor purposefully trapped Yuuri’s hand behind his back in an effort to keep Yuuri close. The surface level attraction he had carried for Yuuri over the last few years was blossoming into something much deeper and Victor wasn’t sure how to handle that development. A crush had been easy, a fantasy tucked away for when Victor felt his most lonely. This, however, this warmth Victor felt every time Yuuri looked at him, the heart-clenching ache he felt every time Yuuri cared for him and the simply beautiful way Yuuri valued Vicchan, made Victor feel raw with all his most closed-off emotions.

Pain would surely rise to stop him if Victor reached for Yuuri’s cheek again, so he settled for fiddling with the hem of Yuuri’s coat. Words wouldn’t quite form in his mind, his thoughts rattling around like loose beans inside of a maraca. Perhaps the imminent nature of what were surely deadly injuries had caused Victor’s heart to splay itself open, ready to fall simply because the chance to do so seemed limited to the here and now. Somehow, Victor didn’t believe this sparse explanation for what felt like a culmination of his favorite daydreams, minus of course the injuries themselves. Daringly, he allowed himself to look up at Yuuri, knowing that when he did, his true fall for this gentle man would be entirely unavoidable.

Sleep-deprivation and hours of anxious worry had taken their toll on Yuuri’s composure. Doubt was his primary defense mechanism when it came to any potential attraction, but his defenses were down in the midst of the emotional whirlwind of the last twenty-four hours. Thus, the sheen of Victor’s tear-sparkled eyes tipped directly to meet Yuuri’s own blurred gaze made Yuuri waiver in all of his careful conclusions about Victor’s behavior.

Repeatedly he had told himself that Victor was injured, scared and disoriented and that Victor’s offered signs of affection were all a result of Victor’s currently altered state of being. As Victor had snuggled closer to Yuuri in his sleep, unknowingly whispering Yuuri’s name like a prayer and clinging to him like a lifeline, Yuuri had convinced himself that Victor didn’t know what he was doing. None of Victor’s actions, as deliberate as they seemed, were the result of Yuuri _personally_. Instead they had to be a consequence of Yuuri’s _proximity_.

Yet, it was nearly impossible to reason away the softness he found in Victor’s eyes and the way Victor continued to curl closer to Yuuri at every opportunity. Logic tried to tell him that Victor was seeking warmth for survival, but the pesky romantically-inclined portions of his brain told him the look in Victor’s gaze had nothing to do with the desire to live. Even with his goggles pushed aside, Yuuri felt the pull of Victor’s beauty guiding him closer.

At the last second, reason caught up with him, yanking Yuuri back from whatever terrible decision he had almost made. Overwhelmed with his own thoughts, Yuuri backed away. Untangling his arm from beneath Victor, he quickly reached for his bag as a method of diffusing the crackling spark between them. “Medicine. And you need to eat. Both of you,” Yuuri declared, attempting to cover up his own awkwardness with unrequested explanation.

Digging into his bag, Yuuri unsurfaced a bag of jerky and a bottle of liquid pain relief that his mother had created. Setting the bottle aside, Yuuri concentrated on the sealed bag, scolding himself internally.

It was probably Yuuri’s imagination anyway, he convinced himself, pulling his gloves from his hands to tear open the bag of jerky. Pointedly, he ignored what might have been a pout on Victor’s face, concentrating instead on the increasing sounds of Vicchan’s excitement. He faintly chuckled when Vicchan eagerly scooted towards him, jostling Victor in the process. With only a small click of his own tongue, Yuuri offered the largest piece to Vicchan before digging back into the bag and holding out a piece for Victor as well.

Alone at Vicchan’s side, Victor wondering why he felt so hollow. Rubbing a hand over his stomach, his mind searched for any memory of the last time he had eaten anything. He was positive that it wasn’t hunger that was leaving him empty and regretful, but he reached a hand out to accept the offered morsel anyway.

Victor grazed his fingers over Yuuri’s now bare ones as he retrieved the dried meat. Disappointment sat heavily in Victor’s heart, making him want to beg Yuuri to come closer. If he was going to die on a cave floor (which appeared entirely possible considering the demands for death his body seemed to be making), he wanted to at least do so while held in Yuuri’s arms.

 _Romantic ass_ , a familiar voice chided inside of his mind. And he was, he thought, flipping the meat between his fingers as he briefly chastised himself for his own thinking. For the benefit of his momentary sanity, Victor decided to switch subject matters, eager to keep Yuuri talking if nothing else.

Raising the meat toward his mouth, Victor took a careful bite and continued to watch as Yuuri tore off a piece of his jerky and tossed it in Vicchan’s direction with a small whistle. Enamored with the sweetness of Yuuri’s relationship with his griffin, Victor clung to this thought and asked, “You communicate with him?” Smiling when Vicchan’s beak rested over his shoulder, Victor couldn’t help falling for the big eyes begging for him to share his own portion. Breaking his piece in half, Victor let Vicchan nip it from his fingers.

Relieved for the swift change in the charged atmosphere, Yuuri shook his head. “Don’t let him fool you,” mockingly reprimanding Vicchan with a shake of his finger, “he does have his own food.” Uncrossing his legs, Yuuri leaned sideways to drag his saddle closer. “Don’t you communicate with Makkachin?” He hushed Vicchan with a wave of his hand, yanking out Vicchan’s own bag of salted meat and tossing a piece high in the air. A snort of laughter escaped him when Vicchan knocked Victor forward again, quickly replaced with worry as Victor’s face pinched in reaction.

“Yes…” Righting himself, Victor barely managed to bite back a moan when he reached forward to steal the open bag of jerky. Unease still swam in his stomach, which Victor hoped would dissipate with the introduction of more food. “I guess I don’t really see other riders… using their language though.” Snuggling into Vicchan’s firm warmth, Victor broke off another piece of jerky and clicked his tongue. His smile was quick to spread when Vicchan stole the meat from his fingers and gently headbutted his shoulder in thanks.

Reaching his right arm to his own mouth was harder than moving his left and Victor couldn’t prevent the groan that reverberated through the cave when he moved his wrong arm too fast. His breath hissed between his teeth as he lowered the arm to his lap, not daring to look in Yuuri’s direction. Part of him wanted to be honest about his pain, to let Yuuri know exactly how quickly it was increasing, but a larger part of him wanted to pretend that they were simply having a conversation. Years of spoiled chances had kept him from meeting this man, and Victor wasn’t going to let a little thing like full body injury prevent him from finally having this moment.

Controlling his facial expression, Victor peered across the fire until Yuuri met his eyes. Quietly he patted the ground next to him. “You have to be cold. I’m cold without you here. Will you come back?” Fluttering his eyelashes, Victor managed to not wince while resituating himself to make more room at Vicchan’s side.

“Only if you’ll drink this.” Plucking the little bottle from the ground, Yuuri unfolded from his current resting place, waiting to move until Victor hesitantly nodded.

Even half blind, Yuuri could see the way Victor was struggling. His left leg rested at an odd angle that Victor hadn’t seemed to notice and every time he moved any part on his right side, Victor visibly flinched. Unsure why Victor was attempting to hide the realities of his injuries, Yuuri decided that the best way to assess them was to play into Victor’s request. Getting closer to Victor meant being able to better judge Victor’s temperature, heart rate, and small tells of unspoken pain.

If the proximity also meant that Yuuri would have to struggle to control his own heart rate and temperature, then so be it.

Slowly Yuuri stood, circling the fire and lowering himself to Victor’s side. Almost instantly, Victor was slumped against him, colder than Yuuri expected and whimpering in a way that Yuuri had to force himself to ignore. Carefully he slid his arm around Victor’s shoulders, tugging the discarded blanket back over Victor’s shivering body before offering the bottle of medication to Victor’s lips. Urging Victor to drink, Yuuri carefully tilted the slim glass only pulling it away when Victor had consumed every drop.

“Tastes like… good…” Victor knew that his sentence made no sense, but waves of relief were already crashing over him making him not care to correct it. Euphoria chased away the ailments that had been exhausting him, causing heaviness in his eyelids to increase while his mind moved toward blissful blankness. Fighting hard to remain awake, Victor tilted his chin upward to speak again, his tongue loose inside of his mouth as he took comfort from his place on Yuuri’s shoulder.

Talking to Victor had been one of Yuuri’s greatest desires, among a list of other wants that Yuuri didn’t deem appropriate to ponder given their situation. Unfortunately, every time he had come remotely close to Victor’s circle, he had found himself rebuffed by one person or another. The group Victor trained with was close-knit and highly guarded by their coach, making all of their riders completely untouchable to outsiders.

Now they were a mere foot from each other, Yuuri’s hand lingering at the dip between Victor’s shoulder blades in hopes of providing any comfort he could. Worry made it impossible for Yuuri to let go, while fear prevented him from getting any closer.

“Maybe you should sleep again.” The words came from Yuuri’s mouth while logic screamed the opposite. He didn’t want Victor to be in pain, but he also feared that if Victor slept he wouldn’t wake up. Torn between his vocal suggestion and the worries tumbled over each other in his brain, Yuuri was relieved when Victor shook his head.

Sleep wasn’t an option as far as Victor was concerned. The temptation was there, dancing in the back of his mind in a way that wanted to draw him toward the darkness. Except the warmth spreading inside of him made him want to linger in temporary relief. Resting his head on Yuuri’s shoulder, Victor swallowed hard to keep the small amount of food and water inside of him, praying that the medicine would continue to comfort him.

Relief of pain also opened the flood gate of Victor’s other thoughts, stumbling and uncoordinated strands of thinking that were itching to explode. So much of Victor’s life surrounded around not speaking his mind, but the lack of inhibitions provided through pain relief tore through those carefully crafted walls.

“I didn’t mean to…” his voice felt stuck behind the knot in his throat and Victor took a moment to collect himself. “I wasn’t trying to get lost. Or hurt. I’m sorry, Yuuri.” His mind told him that his stupid decisions had doomed they both, and probably their griffins too. He wasn’t there to protect Makkachin, his mind spinning out of control with all the worst possibilities of her current fate. He had left in frustration over their trapped situation, his intention to clear his head and think of a plan. Instead, he had put their lives in danger and the lives of Yuuri and Vicchan as well.

Tears swelled in Victor’s eyes, spilling down his cheeks as he realized how much peril they could really be in, how much trouble he had put Yuuri through. There was no promise that they would make it back and Victor felt his stomach knot again at the idea that his selfishness could be the end of Yuuri’s life. Curling his fist into Yuuri’s coat, Victor choked on a sob, the pain of his thoughts overtaking him in a way his physical injuries hadn’t.

Shifting, Yuuri rested his cheek against Victor’s head. He had no successful experience with comforting anyone and if pressed would say that he had never wanted that kind of burden. With Victor, his desire to emotionally support felt natural and he barely resisted the urge to press a reassuring kiss to the top of Victor’s head. “Don’t apologize. I saw you fly off… after arguing with Yakov… that’s how I knew which direction to fly.” The honesty was terrifying for Yuuri, but he hoped that in some way it would reassure Victor.

“Yakov…” Vaguely Victor recalled the argument they had been having which was the same argument they had been having for a year. The need to share, to tell Yuuri the truth, overtook him.

“Did you know I own half of our facility?” Sleepily, Victor felt his body growing heavier and fought his mind to stay awake as his vision blurred with the flames of the fire. “Yet I have no say in what we do with it. You know what I want to do…” his voice trailed off, the air moving in his lungs stinging in a way that was hard for him to process. Warmth encircled him, yet inside of him felt like he was breathing in icicles.

Listening to the rasp that accompanied Victor’s words, Yuuri hesitated to encourage Victor to keep speaking. Subtly, he tucked his hand over Victor’s, squeezing slightly to distract Victor from the press of Yuuri’s thumb at his pulse point. The speed of Victor’s heart was erratic and Yuuri mentally attempted to stomp down his panic as he spoke. “What do you want to do, Victor?”

A burning sensation simmered under Victor’s ribs making him grimace. Yuuri’s hand on his was a pleasant distraction though and Victor concentrated on lacing their fingers together as he spoke. “I wanted to turn part of our grounds into a sanctuary. A place where retired performance animals could be safe and loved even after they aged out. That’s what I want, Yuuri. For all our animals to be loved.”

Tears were back on Victor’s cheeks, prompted by the floating feeling inside of him and the hopefulness of sharing his greatest desire. He felt like a complete disaster in the moment, closing his eyes and letting himself fall apart as Yuuri held him closer. “It’s not allowed though. Not Yakov’s fault, but he is too scared to fight. I would fight though, because it’s what’s right. Not what they do, what they make us do. Not right, Yuuri, not right.” Talking took too much effort and sapped the energy Victor had already used too much of, but he didn’t want to stop. He wanted Yuuri to understand. Victor needed Yuuri to know that he hadn’t flown away to die in a snowstorm.

Concern flooded through Yuuri as Victor’s babbling became incoherent. Having no idea who the “they” was that Victor spoke of or what Victor meant by “not right,” Yuuri could only hum in acknowledgement of Victor’s words. His own tears were slowly building, brought on by the frantic way Victor was holding onto him and the terrified pitch in Victor’s mumblings.

Asking himself what his mother would do, Yuuri suddenly felt realization unknot the anxiety tangled in his mind. Pulling Victor slightly closer, Yuuri leaned further back on Vicchan and took a deep breath. So many years his mother had spent healing not only animals, but also Yuuri’s anxious heart. While physical healing was built on carefully crafted medications and treatments, emotional healing had always come in the form of loving and distracting words. Determined to provide Victor comfort as the medicine settled within him, Yuuri began to talk.

“You know… my parents own a sanctuary. Not just for griffins, but for all creatures. I grew up there, among some of the most exotic animals you could think of, but my parents treated them all like their own babies. Still do.” Thinking of his father rolling on the ground with winged snouttrotters and his mother climbing trees to chase after misbehaving minimonkifleers made him smile. “They work so hard to make sure that all of their animals, from the youngest to the oldest, have the best life they can have. Right up until the end.” Yuuri’s mind flickered to a memory of the sanctuary’s shrine, holding honorary places for all of the animals who had passed on while in their care.

“My parents believe that animals deserve all the love, maybe even more love than humans do and they spoil the animals. We even have birthday parties for them. Once my dad tried to make hats… they all got eaten which made for very colorful clean up the next day.” The memory made Yuuri smile, his shoulders relaxing as he recalled his father’s laughter while his sister exasperatedly exclaimed over the rainbows of poop.

“Sounds perfect,” Victor sighed, his eyes starting to flutter closed as his imagination had him and Yuuri running through a field with their griffins happily free of their bindings by their sides. “That’s what I want. To love the animals who love us. To give them everything they deserve. Yakov says no because _they_ say no. That’s not what it’s for… it’s not meant for that… _I’m_ not meant for that… I just… fly… fly… flyyy…”

Sounds of sobbing filled the cave and Victor barely processed that it was him who was crying. His brain felt fuzzy and light, but the world around him appeared gloomy despite its odd purple hue. Clutching tightly on the front of Yuuri’s coat, he shuddered as he tried to speak. “If we get out of here… take me with you… away from here… take me where animals are happy all the time… I want to be with…” Before he could finish his thought, darkness stole Victor from the world again, his body flopping weakly onto Yuuri’s side.

Wrapping his arms around Victor’s shoulders, Yuuri told himself it was merely Victor’s delirium talking. He believed that Victor wanted to save animals, and even believed that Victor’s fight with Yakov had been over this exact subject. This desire fit with every fact Yuuri knew about Victor and Yuuri’s own observations of how Victor treated every griffin he came in contact with. As an outspoken voice for the fair treatment of their animal partners, Yuuri was positive that Victor’s passion for pursuing an animal sanctuary was real.

The rest of Victor’s statements, the mysterious “they” and their reasons for denying his request, left Yuuri confused and partially convinced that maybe the medication had muddled Victor’s mind in a way that prevented him from speaking clearly. Yuuri had seen it before, when his mother had used the same medicine to provide comfort to Mari after a pregnant unicorn had attempted to use her as a horn sheath. Though there had to be some truth to it, Yuuri thought, resting his head on the curve of Vicchan’s back and staring at the ceiling. Unlike the rest of Victor’s statements, which couldn’t possibly be true.

What he couldn’t believe, what he outright refused to take as truth, was that Victor really wanted to see his childhood home. All too easily his imagination supplied him with images of Victor caring for a variety of animals, his true smile shining brightly without a hint of oppressed joy. The picture bloomed brightly in his mind and his felt himself grow distracted by the idea of them spending their days together in the midst of the happiness of Yuuri’s home.

For the sake of his sanity, Yuuri shoved the thought aside, taping the mental box shut and tossing it to the furthest depths of his mind. Focusing on getting them out of the cave and back to the aerie where Victor could get proper healing had to be his priority. Yuuri had no time to fantasize about Victor happily working at his side, both of them tending to a large variety of species while simultaneously falling madly in love with each other. Those thoughts were nonsense and Yuuri forced them away, instead turning his mind to concentrate on the sound of the wind whistling outside of the cave entrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up a couple of magical creatures. 
> 
> Snouttrotters are flying pigs who are born in a variety of colors.  
> Minimonkifleers are monkeys, with four arms, two legs, and two tails. Also they have Mohawks. They are full of mischief and spite all the time. 
> 
> There wasn't a specific NEED to create animals, I just felt like it :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Update is a day early! I had all my dates screwed up (really, who is surprised??) and had the completion deadline for this fic switched with another project. This story will conclude no later than July 27th so I'm going to update every few days instead of twice a week!
> 
> Hopefully that helps everyone survive the angst...

Shooting up from his place at Vicchan’s side, Victor gasped. Hands scrambling to his body, Victor seized his own sides, his fingers shaking as he pinched himself tightly.

The world spun, a dizzying swirl of orange from the dying fire and brown from the cave walls. Sickness rose inside of Victor again, and he whimpered as he strained to push it back. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to rock only to be slammed with a violent shock of unadulterated agony. “Yuuri…” he whimpered, barely above a whisper and more of a prayer than a call. Desperately he tried to open his eyes, feeling overwhelmed by his still unsteady vision and the need to immediately smash them shut again.

Pausing in his efforts to dig out the last of the snow drift, Yuuri spun on his heel at the sound of his name. Shaking the snow from his hands, Yuuri rushed to Victor’s side, knees stinging as he slammed himself on the ground next to Victor’s anguished body. “Hey, hey, I’m here.” Sliding a hand over the back of Victor’s neck, Yuuri tried to steady him as he wound his other arm over Victor’s stomach. “Breathe… breathe… can you tell me what hurts?”

“Everything,” Victor whispered, twisted to press his forehead into Yuuri’s chest. Nothing comforted him, but the growingly familiarity of Yuuri holding him was allowing his mind to marginally clear. Releasing his grip on himself, Victor used his only fully functional arm to pull Yuuri closer. “Don’t leave me.” Not one to beg anyone for anything, Victor felt his shame rise to meet the already high levels of fear and agony circling like vultures in his mind.

“I won’t.” Sinking further onto the ground, Yuuri guided Victor into his lap. “But we’re almost free and the storm has passed.” Eying the dying embers of his fire, Yuuri knew that they weren’t far from being in an even direr situation. The tiny, panicked sound that escaped Victor in lieu of a response increased Yuuri’s worries tenfold.

“Snow stopped falling hours ago. I almost have us out. Vicchan’s kicking really loosened the snow pack.” It was an attempted joke, which fell flat. Brows knitting together, Yuuri strengthened his hold on Victor. “I’ll get you back. I’ll get you help, I promise.” Yuuri’s heart ached to remain on the ground cradling Victor, but he knew that Victor wouldn’t stand a chance of survival if he didn’t get him back to the aerie as soon as possible.

“Don’t leave me.” This time Victor wasn’t thinking about Yuuri being on the other side of the cave. When they returned, Victor knew Yuuri would be stripped from his life and his already shredded heart tore further with the knowledge. “Yuuri, please… don’t let them…” His words died at the hands of an uncontrolled groan, his body collapsing into a ball in Yuuri’s lap.

Guiding Victor back into Vicchan’s care, Yuuri could feel his own heart breaking at the sound of Victor’s wretched sounds of displeasure. Promises rose to his tongue, vows of staying together and never leaving Victor’s side. Despair rose with them, knowing that they would all be made lies by those who Victor seemed to fear.

A single tear trailed down Yuuri’s cheek and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. Keeping Victor in his life was selfish when he knew that taking Victor back would save his life. Briefly, his mind flickered toward his mother wondering if Victor could make the trip. But as another moan shook Victor’s body, Yuuri knew that there was only one choice.

Combing his fingers through Victor’s hair, Yuuri tried to provide comfort in hopes of leading Victor back to sleep. He wanted to give Victor more medicine to ease his pain, but there were only two bottles in his bag and one had already been used. In order to transport Victor with any degree of safety, Yuuri knew that the remaining dose had to be given within minutes of the start of their flight.

Acting on instinct, Yuuri bent forward and placed a kiss on Victor’s forehead. Embarrassed by his own brashness, Yuuri stumbled as he stood and mumbled about getting the entrance clear.

From his place at Vicchan’s side, Victor clung to the feeling of Yuuri’s chapped lips against his skin, concentrating on the exhilaration of Yuuri’s affection instead of the looming threat of death’s hold.

* * *

The fire was completely out by the time Yuuri had uncovered their way back into the world. Ushering Vicchan around the blackened hole, Yuuri struggled to also support Victor on his other side. Victor was partially supporting his own weight with the second dose of medicine already taking effect on him, but his movements remained sloppy and uncoordinated. They made for a clumsy heap of wings and limbs as they breached the cave’s entrance, the stark white of the snow-covered forest assaulting their eyes.

“Can you mount?” Yuuri asked Victor, already anticipating the answer and clicking his tongue to request Vicchan to stoop toward the ground.

A moan, long and low, wrecked Victor’s balance causing him to slip as he attempted to stretch a leg over Vicchan’s saddle. Muted stabs tried to fight their way through the medicine’s relief, making Victor’s stomach swim with the need to vomit. Clamping down on the impending sickness, Victor forced his body forward. Weakly, Victor slumped onto the back of Vicchan’s neck, his senses only perking up slightly when Yuuri settled behind him.

Weaving his arm around Victor’s waist, Yuuri tutted to Vicchan and steadied Victor as his griffin stood. Yuuri was terrified to fly Victor anywhere in his current state, but he knew it was the fastest way to get him to safety. Telling himself to calm down, Yuuri eased Victor back against his chest. The rope in Yuuri’s hand shook as he looped it carefully over Victor’s front, bracing the knots in all the places Yuuri hoped wouldn’t put too much pressure on Victor’s injuries. Painstakingly, Yuuri wrapped the ends around his own back, threading the ropes between their bodies to secure the knot at his waist. Closing his eyes, Yuuri whispered a quick prayer and then clicked his tongue three times.

They jostled together when Vicchan rose to his full height, graceful and steady despite the extra weight on his back. White wings beat against the frigid air, causing snow to cloud around them in agitated puffs. Vicchan took several steps forward, adjusting his stance and correcting for the added weight of two riders. Flexing his neck to each side, Vicchan gave a succinct nod without turning to look at his partner. With a low trill, Vicchan began to beat his wings in earnest, lifting them from the ground and into the freezing sting of the sky.

Despite the lack of falling snow, the forest remained an eerie shade of blanketed white. It was as if an artist had abandoned a blank canvas after only a few strokes of brown meant to represent the trees. The brightness of the world made Yuuri squint behind his goggles, his mind focusing on where they needed to go and the direction that they had originally come from. Merely tightening the reigns instead of slapping them like other riders, Yuuri guided Vicchan back toward the aerie, careful not to bang into Victor’s sides as they began their return journey.

* * *

When Victor was little and presented with his first griffin, flying had been a way to flee the reality of his overly expectant parents and his hyper-critical nanny. As a child, he had taken to flight quite easily, never having to experience the disjointed and jarring attempts that all of his peers had struggled with. A prodigy, they had called him, when they had swooped in to offer his parents a handsome sum of money and the relief of no longer having to employ someone to actually raise their son. “Leave it to us,” they had promised, before shoving Victor up the stairs to pack his things and whisking him away from his childhood home forever.

His parents had died, in what was claimed to be a horrific accident, before he had the chance to return home. All of their belongings and the rest of their estate had been sold, every penny placed into an account that Victor gained access to at sixteen.

In his seventeenth year, Victor had contemplated running away with the help of his newly acquired partner. Makkachin had been the first animal he had purchased on his own, finally able to declare a small piece of independence from the omnipotent entity that controlled his entire life. The purchase of the land adjoining his home aerie had been his second attempt, until he discovered that he had only acquired the buildings and the land remained in the hands of his greatest enemy.

So instead of running, Victor had become stubborn. He pushed himself to become more than famous, he became legendary. His own status protected him as he started to make noise against the establishment that wanted him to be silenced. They couldn’t touch him, not really, and Victor used that to his advantage.

Flying became a tool. Instead of joy and freedom, Victor used his flying skills as a weapon. Making headlines with death-defying stunts became a necessity where it had once been a thrill. His means of escape quickly became a means to an end.

Nearly a year had passed since Victor could claim to have enjoyed flying. The last flight he remembered loving was when he had secretly followed a certain fallen rider, chasing dark hair and white furry feathers through the trees of the very forest where he was now being carried. Wistfully, he had watched the freedom of Yuuri’s flying, astonished at the way Yuuri carried himself in spite of Yuuri’s heartbreaking failure of the previous day. Intrigued, Victor had flown with Makkachin, staying out of sight but memorizing every graceful glide of Yuuri and his partner.

On that day, Victor had promised himself that he would find a way to know Yuuri. No matter what they said, no matter what restrictions Yakov enforced on their behalf, Victor would find a way.

He never anticipated that he would have to practically kill himself to fulfill his own promise.

Whispers of wind slid through the trees, gentle in the way they brushed past Victor’s cheeks. Gone were the angry swells of snow, making the forest appear as more of a peaceful hideaway than a threatening death trap. The world Victor had flown into on the night of his fall no longer existed, and he let his eyes fall shut as he welcomed the new world filled with the warmth of Yuuri at his back.

In truth, Victor should feel awkward with the way he was currently anchored to Yuuri. The ropes tugged on his body and knots pressed at points that weren’t nearly as sore as the rest of him. Behind him, Yuuri felt like a wall of solid, confident muscle and Victor let himself melt backwards, turning his head to bury his nose in Yuuri’s neck.

Whatever medicine Yuuri had provided to him was certainly doing its job. Twice during Yuuri’s absence to dig in the snow, Victor had awoken with the need to immediately throw himself into the fire and end it all. The sweet release of the tangy liquid had spread through him again, provided by the bottle Yuuri had pressed to his lips. Briefly, in the initial moments of his drugged state, Victor wondered if he could convince Yuuri to fly in the opposite direction of the aerie. Then he had remembered Makkachin and had done anything he could to keep himself from shredding more tears.

If he didn’t return she wouldn’t have any hope of survival. If she had even made it this long without him there to protect her.

Whimpering, Victor squeezed his eyes shut. There was nothing he could do until they were back and becoming emotional now would only cause Yuuri more worry. Yuuri had already sacrificed so much on Victor’s behalf and Victor couldn’t let him continue to suffer the weight of Victor’s world. When they landed, Victor would be forced to let Yuuri go and the reality of that made him bite back the sob that wanted to rip from his chest.

Mistaking Victor’s wounded noises for signs of discomfort, Yuuri strategically transferred Vicchan’s reigns to one hand and used his free one to gradually wrap around Victor’s waist. “I’ve got you,” he promised, shifting on the saddle to secure his grasp on Victor’s side. Vicchan compensated easily, keeping them upright and flying steadily despite Yuuri’s movements.

A hum was Yuuri’s only confirmation that Victor heard him and Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief when Victor relaxed into his hold. All of the tension bled out of Victor’s body and Yuuri straightened his own spine to keep them upright. Thoughts moved at warp speed in Yuuri’s mind, all of them simultaneously trying to take top priority as Yuuri attempted to fly while making decisions about what would happen next.

Obviously, Victor needed to get into the healing center before anything else could be done. The idea of letting Victor out of his sight, especially given all the reasons Yuuri had to worry about him and knowing he would probably never get him back, made a pit of hellish hopelessness open in his stomach. Victor’s safety was more important though, and regardless of Yuuri’s desire to stay by his side, he had to do what was best for Victor.

Plus there were others that Yuuri had to tend to as well. After Victor was transferred to appropriate care, Yuuri needed to have Vicchan examined as well. No thoughts were sparred to Yuuri’s own physical well-being, as Yuuri found his own health and safety of very little concern.

Then there was the matter of Makkachin, a worry that continued to growl loudly in the back of his mind after Victor’s babblings about her possible lack of safety. For several of the minutes that Victor had been mostly conscious after his second dose of medicine, he had spoken terrifyingly of what happened to griffins who couldn’t perform in their country. The information was scattered and confusing, but the upsetting way Victor whispered the news made Yuuri’s skin crawl. Yuuri wasn’t positive that Victor’s ramblings held any truth to them, but there was enough alarm in Victor’s tone to make the anxiety bubble deep inside of Yuuri’s gut. Once they landed, the misery of Victor’s stay in the healers’s quarters was inevitable and therefore Yuuri had decided it was his job to ensure Makkachin’s care was being handled with the utmost kindness and intelligence. No matter who he had to fight.

Flattening his palm over Victor’s hip, Yuuri selfishly committed the memory of Victor sharing the saddle with him to his most sacred collection of memories. As a preteen when he had first discovered Victor, Yuuri had indulged in a number of fantasies about flying in tandem with his idol. Never had he imagined that he would be the one steering, but Yuuri couldn’t help savoring the feeling of his favorite dream come to life. Although he could do without the life and death of the situation, Yuuri wasn’t above cherishing the weightless feeling of flying with Victor in his arms.

Reality would greet them when they reached the ground, a force harsher than any storm that the atmosphere could produce.

Evitable as their separation was, Yuuri couldn’t find the strength to protect his heart from the beauty of this moment. Ignoring the wounds and the reasons for their flight, Yuuri let himself imagine that they were soaring together by choice instead of necessity. In his mind, Victor had chosen to rest comfortably in Yuuri’s arms. In place of the stuttered groans currently pressed into his neck, Yuuri imagined playful kisses and teasing remarks about Victor being distracting.

His fantasy carried him through the rest of the ride, shattering upon the sight of the aerie walls and the shimmering flashes from the performance ring. People were gathered in lines on the other side of the stables, disappearing from Yuuri’s sight in a direction different from where he was headed. Their noise floated in a jumble over the treetops, excitement and anticipation shaping the wordless murmurs.

Swallowing the building desire to flee, Yuuri tugged Vicchan’s lead once to the left, encouraging his griffin to redirect toward the healing building.

Sleek and more sophisticated looking than the surrounding housing and stable buildings, the healing facility looked more clinical than magical. Yuuri thought of his mother’s own healer’s tent, again wishing there was some feasible way to land in front of its colorful stripes of fabric instead of the gleaming glass doors which winked at him in the day’s earliest light. Knowing he had no other choice, Yuuri guided Vicchan toward the ground, feeling his heart die more with every dismounted foot.

Shouts and thundering feet greeted them immediately, hands reaching up to yank at their bodies and drag them to the ground. Phichit’s face was immediately recognizable, as was Yuuri’s own coach and the livid mask of horror parading as Victor’s coach. Shoving at the demanding hands, Yuuri supported Victor’s limp form long enough to release the makeshift harness holding them together.

Before he could speak, two darkly-clad figures appeared with a rolling bed to seize Victor’s body and whisk him away through the sterile doors. Fear gripped at Yuuri’s chest, an overwhelming wave of terror and concern caused him to twist away from Celestino in an attempt to follow Victor. Strong arms circled his waist, lifting Yuuri to his toes to prevent him from running toward the doors. “STOP! Let me GO!” Yuuri screamed, fighting against Celestino’s hold with scrambling hands and flailing legs.

“YAKOV!” Yuuri screeched, tears streaming down his face at their sudden separation mixed with his inability to break free. Shock and malice painted Yakov’s scowl as he turned to face Yuuri. “He fell,” Yuuri hiccupped, his sobs stopped him from continuing to shout. “He threw up. Blood. His leg… it’s not right… I gave him medicine for pain but…”

A hand, wrinkled and yet deadly looking, raised to stop Yuuri’s attempts to explain. “You’ve done enough,” Yakov growled. Gruff eyes looked over Yuuri’s shoulder to Celestino before marching through the doors where Victor had vanished.

“No,” Yuuri whimpered, collapsing over Celestino’s arm. The grief tearing his heart apart had no basis that Yuuri could cling to, it simply existed to rip Yuuri into pieces. Victor had to go with the healers, Yuuri knew that and understood it even as Celestino stated the same as a method to comfort him. No words could calm Yuuri though, as his panic exploded and he stumbled forward out of Celestino’s arms.

Phichit was there to catch him, sinking to the ground and bracing Yuuri against his chest as Yuuri cried. Vicchan’s wings curled around them, protecting Yuuri from the view of anyone beyond his best friend. All of the emotions Yuuri had pushed away were breaking inside of him, making him shake violently in Phichit’s arms as all of his resolve and determination washed away with his tears. Whispered words of love and support fell on Yuuri’s deaf ears as Phichit rocked him.

“Yuuri, Yuuri… I need you to listen.” This time it was Celestino who spoke, squatting down beneath Vicchan’s wings and demanding Yuuri face him. “Vicchan needs to be examined. I’m going to take him with me. Your parents… they are coming, Phichit called them. He’s going to take you to my quarters. Don’t let another healer near you, do you understand me? Wait for your mother.”

Confused, Yuuri wiped a hand through the snot running from his nose. He opened his mouth to ask why, but was cut off by Phichit hauling him to his feet.

The sound of squeaking wheels made Yuuri tense, a feeling that was mirrored in Phichit’s arms as he forcefully shoved Yuuri to stand on his own two feet. Waving a hand at the approaching transporters, Phichit smiled his best fake smile. “Sorry to disappoint, no injuries to this one! We’ll move along.” Dropping his volume, Phichit leaned into Yuuri’s ear. “I don’t care if you have to fake it, walk, quickly, and of your own accord.” Flashing another smile in the direction of the glass doors, Phichit threw his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders to guide him away.

Commotion from Yuuri’s left made him jump and he nearly stumbled as he turned to see a flock of brightly colored reporters stampeding toward him. Squeaking, Yuuri felt his shoulders being shoved, making eye contact with Celestino as his coach hissed, “get out of here!”

Hesitating, Yuuri squared his shoulders and stood at his full height, wiping a hand over his face to clear away the evidence of his sorrow. An inkling of thought prickled the back of his mind, telling him this was the only chance for the real truth of Victor’s injuries to be heard before Yakov and his minions could put some untowardly spin on it.

Even though Yuuri had questioned the coherency of Victor’s drugged rants, his instincts told him this was the right move. Never one to back down from his gut, Yuuri steeled his mind against its fit of anxiety and prepared himself to speak the truth. Shrugging Phichit away from him, Yuuri remained rooted to his spot even as the reporters overtook him.

“Is it true that you kidnapped Victor Nikiforov in a jealous craze?”

“Was Victor practicing satanic rituals in the forest to ensure his win?”

“Katsuki, did you and Victor attempt to run off because you’re star-crossed lovers kept apart by the Federation’s regulations?” (At this one, Yuuri heard Phichit’s failed attempt to hide a snicker and was forced to bite the inside of his own cheek to remain neutral.)

In his peripheral, Yuuri saw Celestino inconspicuously moving Vicchan toward their trainer, feeling relieved that his griffin looked unworried about being separated from Yuuri’s side. Having Vicchan safe and away from this chaos made Yuuri breathe slightly easier. Redirecting his attention, he mentally prepared himself to address the press piranhas in front of him.

Raising his hand, Yuuri waited until the hyenas quieted themselves. Changing his stance, he reached for the closest voice recorder and stared meaningfully into the floating recorders being aimed at his face.

“Yesterday evening, Victor’s griffin returned to the stables with _non-life threatening injuries_ but no rider.” Yuuri specified Makkachin’s well-being as his familiarity with griffin care was well-known and respected in their world. If Victor was worried about Makkachin’s safety, the first way Yuuri could aid in her protection was publically sharing his own opinions about her condition. 

“At the hour of Makkachin’s appearance, the storm was at its height and did not allow for adequate time to contact a proper rescue team. I made a decision to search for Victor on my own with the help of my partner, Vicchan.” Pausing to allow those writing to capture the details, Yuuri tried to temper the emotions rising within him. “I discovered Victor in the forest, injured but alive and we waited for the storm to pass in a naturally created shelter.”

If he specified it was a cave, Yuuri knew the crazed fans would be hunting for their hiding place and Yuuri had zero desire for anyone to discover the amount of blood that had been left behind on the cave floor. “Victor has unidentified injuries at this time, but as the son of a world-known healer, I can assure you that he should make a full recovery.” Checking the box of ensuring Victor’s own protection, Yuuri mentally gagged the part of his brain that demanded to know why he thought it was necessary. Celestino’s terrified and determined face floated into Yuuri’s memory making his stomach churn.

Letting the whispers of the collective crowd die down again, Yuuri gripped the recorder tighter for his final statement. “In spite of the circumstances, Victor will most likely not be performing in this festival and I dedicate my performance to him as a symbol of my gratitude for his bravery, his strength, and his determination to achieve equal rights not just for the griffins of our sport, but for all performance animals throughout the world. Victor’s love should be an inspiration to us all, and I implore you to concentrate your reporting efforts on the remarkable abilities of these animals instead of wasting your time sensationalizing an accident that was just that – an accident. Good day.”

Tossing the recorder back to the stunned reporter, Yuuri turned to nod at Phichit. From behind him, Yakov appeared, staring down his nose and looking on the cusp of murder. With a small squeak, Yuuri moved to Phichit’s side, both of them making a beeline away from the crowd.

Later, Yuuri would worry about whatever lies Yakov fed to the reporters, but for now, he had two griffins to check on and a rider who he planned to protect with every ounce of influence he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, so much ouch :(
> 
> Please don't hate Yakov! I promise you'll understand soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has probably the highest level of angst I have ever written. A couple of chapters of [Law Firm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084109/chapters/24724854) and certainly a couple of chapters of [Be my chef, Yuuri](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10102205/chapters/22504352) contain angst, but this story has a long way to go until there is any relief. That being said, if you need some unadulterated fluff to ease the pain of this story, I might suggest [Katsuki’s Pet Needs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11403003/chapters/25540758) where literally I wrote not an ounce of angst in the entire fic. It's just love at first sight Victuuri with dogs (and puppies!) 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story and who has shared their thoughts and comments about it! There are a few plot points and worries that will get addressed in this chapter, and a few more questions that are going to continue. I really appreciate everyone who has taken a chance on this world!!

Normally, Yuuri was the quiet one of the two of them while Phichit was the one who was prone to excitable rants and large scale meltdowns. Time after time, Yuuri listened to all of the topics which caused Phichit outrage or excitement with a calm nod of his head and a few well-timed noises of interest. Throughout the years of their friendship there had been no shortage of reasons for Phichit’s rantings whereas the only subject that could bring a matching level of enthusiasm out of Yuuri was the man he was currently mourning the loss of.

In the wake of his return from the forest, Yuuri had reached Phichit levels of spoken words. Anger, frustration, and an overwhelming sense of confusion left Yuuri unable to stop himself from releasing all his unspoken thoughts onto the unprepared ears of his best friend. Tumbling and tangled iterations of how he found Victor fumbled into all of the revelations shared by Victor in his drugged and half-aware state.

Jumping from point to point, Yuuri was panicky in his need to have someone else know everything he had discovered. Multiple times he stopped himself to recount his thoughts, going over the same points again with stronger emphasis as to why they were important. Yuuri needed Phichit to understand that while Victor’s fall had been accident, there were much scarier forthcoming possibilities than a few broken bones.

Manic as his story was, Yuuri remained eerily quiet in his retelling, tears intermittently falling over his cheeks untouched. A hushed storm of information was hefted onto Phichit’s shoulders, with only seconds of breath hiccupped between Yuuri’s thoughts. To his credit though, Phichit remained patient throughout Yuuri’s tirade, letting Yuuri divest himself of all the worries that had compounded over his time with Victor.

With a guiding hand, Phichit tried to lead Yuuri toward their coach’s quarters, losing the battle as Yuuri continued to pace in agitated paths back and forth over the stone walkways that led in multiple directions throughout the compound. On Phichit’s fifth (or perhaps tenth) attempt to force Yuuri to move his feet forward, Yuuri finally snapped out of his impression of a Tasmanian devil and stood his ground.

“Tell me what happened after I left,” Yuuri folded his arms and remained rigidly still, the salt of his tears drying in sticky lines down his face. “What did they do with Makkachin?”

After stabbing through all of the thought bubbles that had crammed their way into the forefront of his mind, Yuuri was determined to concentrate on the task at hand, no matter how shocked Phichit looked at his sudden and very direct attention. The dodgy way Phichit wouldn’t meet his eyes severed through the armor of Yuuri’s determination, his shoulders sagging as he stepped forward to grab his best friend’s hands. “Phichit, I’m sorry. _Please_ … I need to know.”

Nervous energy radiated off of Phichit as he glanced over his shoulder. Footsteps nor voices seemed to have followed them in their hasty retreat, a realization that had Phichit taking a deep breath before he wrapped strong fingers around Yuuri’s wrist. “Come on,” he nearly growled, changing their course and pulling Yuuri toward the line of trees closest to the stables.

“Lilia showed up a little while after you… ran off…” Phichit wasn’t looking at him, but Yuuri could clearly hear that further apologies were going to be needed before Yuuri would be completely forgiven for his rash decisions. “Makkachin lost a lot of blood, but Lilia was careful to heal the most obvious of wounds before alerting any other members of their team.”

A quick jerk to the left had Yuuri stumbling over his own feet, nearly crashing into Phichit’s back as they stopped in front of a dark stable on an elevated platform. If Phichit hadn’t led him directly to the hidden building, Yuuri was positive he would have never noticed its existence.

“Yesterday, when the storm began to trail off, they showed up with this.” Disdain was evident in Phichit’s voice, making the blood in Yuuri’s veins turn cold. “The last time I saw Makkachin, they were carrying her in there. If it wasn’t for Lilia coming to speak with Celestino, I wouldn’t have reason to believe she’s alive.” Dark, sad eyes turned in Yuuri’s direction. “Lilia asked Celestino to send for your mother. Celestino had already made the call for your father and swiftly requested your mother as well. I don’t know what’s happening, because I was hiding outside of the window and couldn’t hear everything, but I know Makkachin’s in there.”

The heavy wood door at the front of the portable building swung open. Frozen in his place, Yuuri would have been spotted if it hadn’t been for Phichit dragging them both behind the nearest clump of bushes.

A man dressed in a dark suit, with an even darker expression, frowned down at the fierce glare of Lilia Baranovskaya. Whatever argument they were having, neither of them were backing away and the narrowed pinch of Lilia’s eyes became deadly.

They couldn’t hear the words being spoken, but Phichit nudged Yuuri and whispered, “She’s so scary.”

If Yuuri hadn’t grown up with Lilia’s existence, he would tend to agree with Phichit’s observation. As it was, Lilia and his mother had known each other before Yuuri had even been a theoretical concept allowing him to recognize Lilia’s body language for what it was. She was protecting someone (hopefully Makkachin) and she was not standing down.

A thin, pointed eyebrow raised as Lilia’s voice lifted in volume. “I will note again, that no matter what your orders, this animal does not belong to you or to the team. She is privately owned and therefore outside of your jurisdiction. I suggest you review your own rules before showing up here to show the world your ass.” Lifting her chin, Lilia was obviously daring the man in front of her to keep speaking. Watching the stranger’s mouth open and close uselessly, Yuuri felt a surge of affection for the usually cold woman. “That’s what I thought. Good day.” The slam of the door punctuated Lilia’s dismissal and Yuuri barely resisted the urge to cheer for her as the man stumbled backwards.

“Do you know how scary it was to be alone with her?” Phichit hissed, fingers digging into Yuuri’s side. “She could freeze ice with her eyes, I’m sure of it.”

Yuuri felt Phichit shudder and chuckled at his friend. For the first time since Victor had started disjointedly babbling about Makkachin’s safety, Yuuri felt that particular knot loosen. If Lilia was standing between Makkachin and those who could harm the griffin, Yuuri was positive that Makkchin would be alright. Prepared to finally let Phichit take him to Celestino’s quarters, Yuuri stiffened when the gruff voice of the mystery man moved towards them.

“Of course there are problems. _She’s_ always a problem. And it involves _him_. It’s becoming more of a headache than he is worth. I suggest we deal with this _issue_. Immediately.” Deep lines dug into the man’s sunken face as he scowled into his communicator, stomping past Yuuri and Phichit’s hiding place without noticing them.

The implications of his statements made Yuuri’s jaw clench, his hands gripping the branches of the bush in front of his face with enough force to snap them under his fists. Sucking in his breath, he heard Phichit do the same as they watched the grotesquely cantankerous man pause and look over his shoulder. Seconds dragged by as they waited for him to start moving again, both of them slumping onto each other’s shoulders as soon as he moved away.

“What now?” Phichit asked, the worry in his eyes telling Yuuri that Phichit already knew the answer. Yuuri’s heart was invested, in Makkachin _and_ in Victor, and there was no way he was leaving before he spoke to Lilia. A wave of Phichit’s hand in the direction of the door Lilia had slammed moments before gave his silent permission for Yuuri to do as he desired.

Only nodding, Yuuri ducked out from the bushes and stepped stealthily over the gravel. Movement at the door made him hesitate, until the familiar sound of Lilia’s whisper beckoned him inside. Shooting a thumbs up in Phichit’s direction, Yuuri slid through the tight opening of the door and into the darkness.

Lights floated over the open room, suspended in dangling holders which hung just above the height of their heads. On one side, Makkachin laid on a pile of blankets, her eyes peacefully shut as she snoozed, unaware or unwary of the two people standing on the other side of the low wall. There was no gate to prevent Makkachin from leaving the space, but judging from the way her wing wasn’t completely flush to her side, Yuuri guessed that she wouldn’t have been keen to move regardless.

Concern drew him forward, his steps stopped by a firm hand catching his shoulder. The points of Lilia’s perfectly shaped nails dug into the fabric of Yuuri’s coat, holding him in place without the need for additional force. A whimper, pathetic and unprofessional, sounded from Yuuri’s chest and he dropped his face into his hands. “How bad is it?” He wasn’t sure if he meant Makkachin’s injuries, the argument he had seen outside, or the situation as a whole, but he hoped that Lilia would have an answer anyway.

“I knew you would come.” Pulling her hand from Yuuri’s shoulder, Lilia took a place at his side. “Word spread quickly of your return. You saved his life. And hers.”

Braving a glance at her, Yuuri discovered Lilia focused solely on Makkachin. A heavy feeling of foreboding rolled inside of him, silencing any of his other demands for information.

“There are many things in this world you don’t understand. You couldn’t, with the way you were raised and the organization under which you compete. You wear the colors of a proud, but small nation. That is not the case for Victor. Nor myself.” Remaining rigid, Lilia opened her mouth to speak again when the creak of the door made her eyes go wide. Seizing the back of Yuuri’s upper arm, Lilia flung him toward the ground, hissing at him to stay quiet as she kicked a stack of crates in front of him.

“What’re you doing?”

Alarm bells rang loudly in his head as Yuuri heard Yakov’s grumbled question. The exhaustion that laced into the words provided a strange comfort, and the sigh that followed made Yuuri’s eyebrows raise.

“Chasing away our favorite representative.” Lilia’s sarcasm was apparent, even though Yuuri couldn’t see her face. “The scavengers are circling. I don’t know how long I can…”

Daring a peek around the crate, Yuuri caught himself from toppling backwards at the sight of Yakov wrapping his arms around Lilia. Instinctively, Yuuri wanted to leap from his hiding place to save his mother’s oldest friend, but then Lilia relaxed into the embrace. Confused, Yuuri returned to his crouch, ears itching for more information.

“That boy… Katsuki. He took a big risk today.” Yuuri’s cheeks burned with the sound of his name on Yakov’s tongue. “Stupidly brilliant decision to declare both Makkachin and Victor safe. They’ll be hard pressed to change that fact now that he has publically spoken to the opposite.” The softness in Yakov’s voice confused him and made Yuuri yearn to see the man’s face, pushing up on his knees to do just that.

The two were no longer holding each other, giving Yuuri a slight relief as to his level of invasiveness. Yakov’s and Lilia’s backs now faced him, their elbows resting on the low wall separating them from Makkachin’s sleeping space. There was a comfortable feel about the way they leaned on one another and Yuuri felt a resurgence of the glimmer of guilt for his intrusion on this private moment.

“Yuuri may provide more than one answer to our staggering number of problems.” Lilia’s tone was cautious, her eyes flicking over her shoulder toward Yuuri in his hiding place. The silent message was clear and Yuuri listened closely as she continued to speak. “Makkachin is of no use if she can’t return to performative flight. You know what will happen…” Lilia’s eyes slid toward Yakov whose face was set in an unreadable blankness. “If Victor… was willing to sell Makkachin… they would see it as a prudent business decision. Hiroko and Toshiya are on their way here. It could be arranged.”

Slapping a gloved hand over his mouth, Yuuri kept himself from gasping out loud. Victor’s fears were founded and Yuuri felt as if the ground was falling out from beneath his knees.

“That doesn’t…” Yakov raised a closed fist, pressing it to his lips until they turned white from the pressure. A single tear slipped down his cheek, disappearing in the crease of his leather glove. “It doesn’t protect Victor.”

In a sign of quiet support, Lilia’s hand rested on Yakov’s cheek. “Maybe there’s a way. They both… well… maybe they both have realized the strength they could have together.”

A burning sensation flooded Yuuri’s chest when his mind clicked into place. Lilia was talking about him. About him and Victor, but he couldn’t quite understand why.

“Impossible,” Yakov huffed, not moving away from Lilia’s touch. “Relationships are only allowed if they are useful. Doesn’t matter if Katsuki is willing to match all of Victor’s harbored feelings. They can never be. Even if Victor survives his injuries, he is fragile. He won’t survive the loss…” Yakov’s eyes rested on Makkachin again, sadness creasing all of the aging lines of his face. “Losses…” he amended, looking as if he was withholding more tears by sheer stubbornness alone.

Yuuri’s own tears threatened to shudder from him, his teeth grinding into the back of his glove and his knees digging into the wood planks to keep himself in place. He had been wrong about so many assumptions and his stomach felt sick with all of the contradictions. Yakov’s words were a dizzying blur of lifting Yuuri’s heart to its highest hopes and shattering it over the sharpest spikes of reality. He couldn’t wrap his head around any of it.

Eyes trailing back to where Lilia stood, Yuuri felt his heart ache at the soft way she was looking at Yakov. In the lifetime that he had known Lilia, he had only seen her show any signs of softness around animals and even those instances were rare. When she spoke, her voice was weaved with a tenderness Yuuri had never heard. “We know a little something about impossible, don’t we?”

Sinking back down to his spot behind the crates, Yuuri hid his face, the image of Lilia and Yakov leaning into shared affection floating away from him. He tried to stack all of the new pieces of information into piles with the information he had already gained from Victor. There were so many loose ends, so many holes and open questions, Yuuri felt as if he was playing with a card deck containing no face cards.

“Come on, I will make you some tea,” Lilia offered, her footsteps heavier than her normal gait. Knowing that the noise was for his benefit, Yuuri held perfectly still waiting until their voices had faded from the front of the building and shifted to the back half. Slinking from his hiding place, Yuuri slipped from the door and began to run back to the healers’ building.

At no time in his calculated escape did he ever notice the slight shadow of a veiled figure following him through his every step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long until I should post the next chapter? There are 5 more and I have to have them all up by the 27th and at this point, the updating is just happening randomly when I have a free moment. Let me know what you guys think are the best days to put updates up!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely forgot to add, this fic now has songs! Usually I start a fic with songs, but this one took a while for me to decide what would fit best. Here are the songs that I have been listening to, if you have any interest in checking them out :)  
> Train - [It's About You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZbFqrv-oHi8)  
> Savage Garden - [Crash and Burn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vsYLVtOBW2w)
> 
> Real life showed up to punch me in the face, so now this fic is basically going to update once a day until it is completed! Luckily that means there won't be days between updates, and anyone reading it knows it will be finished by Saturday! 
> 
> Thanks for all of your input on the updating schedule, sorry that I royally mucked up all of your excellent suggestions :(

A single-minded determination fueled Yuuri’s fatigued body as he made his way through the trees of the foreign aerie. Every one of his limbs had begun to feel heavy, pulled toward the ground with weights of sleep deprivation and emotional fallout. Each step cost him another loss to his already fraying consciousness, but he refused to stop moving forward. In his mind, replays of Yakov’s face mingled with all of the concerns Yuuri already had. The maddening swirl of anxiety continued to lead to the same conclusion – Victor was in danger.

How or who was truly responsible for that danger remained an unanswered question. Enemies unknown to Yuuri could be lurking around Victor, waiting for their chance to strike when Victor was most vulnerable. Regret flipped the barely there contents of Yuuri’s stomach as impossibly warm tears found themselves falling once again off the edge of Yuuri’s jaw.

Stones crunched under his feet as he took his last few steps at a run, feeling the whoosh of the opening door more than hearing it. His heartbeat drummed wildly in his ears, deafening him to all other sounds as he steered himself toward the singular desk standing at the first apex of the building.

Had he been listening, or been able to focus on anything other than his designated path, it would have been far harder for the smaller man to overtake him. As it was, Yuuri’s own goals blinded him to potential danger leaving him vulnerable to the attack that resulted in him heaving deeply inside the unsettling darkness of a storage closet.

“What the-” he panted, though his question was cut off by the press of a slender fingers against his mouth and a warning hissed directly into his ear.

“Shut up.”

Finally the blindness in the dark began to lift from Yuuri’s eyes, allowing him to note the significant size difference between himself and the man shoving him backwards into the unforgiving edges of a shelf. Shaking his shoulders, Yuuri raised his hands and pushed, dislodging the hold on his body and setting himself free.

Instead of running, Yuuri rested his hands on his hips and stared helplessly at the angered form of junior rider Yuri Plisetsky.

What the younger rider lacked in size, he made up for in sheer hatred for the world around him. So much pubescent rage filled his tiny body, it was often joked by other riders that Yuri Plisetsky had been born in hellfire and had simply chosen to burn for the rest of his life. His scorn and remarkable temper preceded him, causing Yuuri to be extremely wary of how small the space between them truly was.

“You’re an idiot,” Yuri spat, one hand running through his tangled hair while the other balled into a fist at his side. “Why the hell are you here?!”

Flinching, Yuuri tried to hold his ground by shifting to stand taller. Nerves shook through him but Yuuri stamped them down as he sized up his captor. “I came to see Victor.”

“Idiot!” Yuri snarled, pushing back into Yuuri’s space and punching the shelf nearest Yuuri’s head. “Do you want to ruin him?” A sharp slap landed on Yuuri’s shoulder before Yuri stepped back. “You’re as bad as him.”

Carefully studying the teen’s posture, Yuuri noted the red rims of his eyes and the snot stains at the ends of his jacket’s sleeves. What appeared to be anger, looked a lot like misplaced misery.

Changing his approach, Yuuri dropped his shoulders and unfolded his arms. “Maybe…” he started cautiously, “maybe… I am an idiot… tell me _why_.” Although he posed his question as a command, Yuuri kept his tone soft and his body language softer in hopes of appealing to any calmer part of Yuri’s personality.

Eyes rolling to the ceiling, Yuri let his hands limply flop to his sides. “Where do I start?” His comeback lacked the venom he was so famous for, giving Yuuri a spark of hope. “You aren’t allowed… to go in there. You aren’t family… or-or… teammate... And…”

The stutter in Yuri’s list of reasons made Yuuri wish he could reassure the boy in some way. While he hadn’t been hesitant to yell at Yuuri or tackle him into a closet, it appeared that actually talking to someone who was willing to listen was beyond Yuri’s comfort zone. Taking a step back, Yuuri rested on the shelf that had previously dented his spine and wordlessly waved for Yuri to continue.

“We’re not all _love_ and _cuddles_ the way your team is.” Jealousy was obvious in Yuri’s insult, even though his words rang with vague judgment. “We are serious. We’re the best. We win. That’s the priority. Not this… this… stupid love bullshit! He shouldn’t _love_ you. He shouldn’t _love_ anyone. Love is useless, no value to it… whatsoever!”

Whatever point the younger rider was trying to make became lost on Yuuri as a singular word struck a resounding chord in his mind.

 _Love._ The word echoed in Yuuri’s head and brought him down onto the floor. Maybe in Yuri’s eyes love had no value, but the implication of Victor’s love was heavy enough to knock Yuuri completely speechless. There wasn’t a single piece of Yuuri that deserved Victor’s attention, yet this was the second person to hint at its existence _before_ their time together in the cave. Another thread of confusion wove its way into the already tangled knot inside of Yuuri’s mind.

Using both hands to scrub through his hair, he looked up to where Yuri was still speaking despite Yuuri’s inability to listen. “Victor doesn’t… he couldn’t… we barely…” The responding glare caused Yuuri to clamp his mouth shut.

“He says he does, before and apparently after you saved his dumbass.” Back braced against the door, Yuri frowned at the floor, shoulders slumping. “Half alive, sputtering like a madman, demanding to be let go, asking for you, asking for Makkachin. Acting out of his mind just long enough for the wrong people to hear. Long enough to-”

“I don’t understand…” Honesty was all Yuuri had and he used it like a knife to cut through Yuri’s winding words. There were so many straggling pieces, so much hope and despair weaved into the incomplete tapestry of Victor’s life. Yet, the way Yuri had curled in on himself told Yuuri that here probably wasn’t the place he would find answers. Defeated, he dropped his hands between his knees, resolved to remain in the dark for now. “Have you seen him?”

Wherever Yuri’s speech had been heading, the thought train was stopped dead in its tracks by Yuuri’s interruption. “No… not really…” Yuri slowly shook his head and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “Yakov said he stayed barely conscious before the healers knocked him out completely. They’ll keep him that way for a few hours. Yakov said he looks bad. Not dead, but nearly so.”

The answer gave more information than Yuuri had been expecting. Relief and apprehension warred for the top spot in Yuuri’s mind, neither of them willing to yield in their battle. If the healers were keeping Victor asleep then Yuuri took that as confirmation of the internal injuries he had been dreading. But Victor was expected to be awake before the end of the day, which was better news that Yuuri could have hoped for.

Silence momentarily fell between them, a welcome break from the disjointed conversation. Yuuri wanted answers, and it seemed that his current closetmate only saw fit to speak at his own will. Between the insults and the flashes of actual openness, Yuuri felt stuck between pushing for more, providing comfort, and desiring to run. Funny how easily he recalled the same feelings from his time with Victor.

Minutes clicked by slowly, neither of them bridging the gap that stretched impossibly large within their small confines. Unlike the oddly easy rhythm and comfort Yuuri had found with Victor, he felt faintly on edge and defensive even knowing he could overpower his smaller adversary if he had to.

Yuri had been the one to drag him into the closet and it was Yuri who continued to block the doorway to the rest of the world. Small in frame but large in spite, Yuri continued to glower at the ground between them, creating an invisible line that Yuuri hesitated to breach. As time crept past though, Yuuri’s concern about their position slowly edged to the forefront of his worries. For all of his statements about Yuuri being an idiot, it seemed equally stupid to be sitting in a closet where anyone could discover them together.

 _What a scandal that would be_ , Yuuri remarked to himself, nearly snickering at the thought of how his reputation would change if he was caught with two different riders from the Federation in one day. His stomach soured at the thought of how Victor would feel.

Sweet Victor, who was nothing but a victim of circumstances Yuuri didn’t understand. All Yuuri wanted to do was help him break free, although Yuuri was still unsure who exactly was holding Victor hostage. Briefly, he again wondered if Yuri would tell him, rethinking his prior hasty conclusions about Yuri’s willingness to share. Narrowing his eyes, he studied Yuri through the cover of his own sagging bangs, trying to decide his best approach.

Young and scared were the two best adjectives that came to Yuuri’s mind, taking in the way Yuri flickered between looking in his direction and looking anywhere but him. Although he held himself with antagonistic precision, the twitch in Yuri’s fingers beneath the cloth of his pockets and his apparent hesitancy to leave the closeness of the closet gave away his faltering confidence.

While Yuri had initially been aggressive and startling, Yuuri only saw a terrified boy standing in front of him. He looked falsely confident and utterly tormented, reminding Yuuri distinctly of the way Victor had swung between similar emotions. Whatever dynamics were at play within their team certainly seemed to cause their riders to be unstable in the most alarming ways.

“Yakov said you saved his life.” Kicking a heel back against the door, Yuri flinched at the bang which bounced off the walls and harshly interrupted the quiet of the closet. “They weren’t looking at you as a problem before, lack of talent, oblivious to everyone around you-”

 _Gee thanks_ , Yuuri thought to himself rolling his eyes as Yuri continued to speak. His mind felt cloudy in a way that made Yuuri ready to curl into a ball and slip away from the world. Trapped in the quietness of the closet, all of his adrenaline was draining, leaving him floating in the uncertainty of his own wakefulness.

“You’re dangerous now though.” Sarcastic assessment shone in Yuri’s eyes as he looked down. “If they asked me, there’s still nothing to worry about.”

“Hmph,” Yuuri remarked, almost agreeing with Yuri’s thoughts. Dangerous had never been a word associated with Yuuri’s presence and he was positive that no one would truly find it fitting. However, if he needed to be to help Victor, Yuuri’s sleepy brain was convinced he could find a way to embrace a more intimidating side of himself. Knowing that no one would ever see him coming was almost amusing to his exhausted mind.

“Why’d you want to see him?”

Blearily, Yuuri met Yuri’s eyes, his mind slower than he wanted it to be as he processed the question. The fire and challenge had leaked out from Yuri’s posture, replaced by an oddly innocent sincerity that Yuuri couldn’t quite reconcile with the rider’s reputation. “I need to tell him that my parents are coming. My mom’s a healer, best there is… and my dad… He could purchase Makkachin… if that would keep her safe. I don’t understand your Federation’s guidelines… they don’t sound good… though…”

Fatigue continued to crawl over Yuuri’s body, the lack of sleep and extreme stress finally ebbing away to full-body tiredness. His eyelids slowly blinked as he watched Yuri mull over his response.

“They put them down.” The statement was simple enough, yet Yuuri felt his stomach sink like a bag of rocks. “Competition animals, when they can’t compete anymore… are deemed worthless… the Federation doesn’t want resources spent on caring for useless animals… so…” Sliding a thumb across his neck, Yuri looked thoroughly disgusted by the information. “Not that I… you know… whatever…” For the first time, he appeared to question the Federation’s practices even though Yuri was clearly scared to directly speak out against them.

At least one of Yuuri’s many questions had been answered, affirming the worst case scenario he had fought himself from accepting. A lump rose in his throat as he recalled the way Lilia had watched over Makkachin and her exchange with the strange man and then Yakov. His original determination to convey the offer to Victor had been based solely on his firm belief in Lilia. Confirming that Makkachin’s life was unavoidably and definitively at risk only made him feel more desperate.

“You won’t let me see him. But you know we can’t stay here.” Yuuri unsteadily pushed himself to his feet, holding up his hands when Yuri took a threatening step toward him. Clenching his jaw, Yuuri bit back the snide comments he wanted to make in hopes of getting himself out of the damn closet. “Will you take him a message?” Fully expecting Yuri to snap at him, Yuuri was pleasantly surprised to only receive a shrug in response.

“Tell him what I said about Makkachin. Tell him he’s not alone.” With a deep breathe, Yuuri took a chance. “And if he’s awake, tell him to watch me tonight.” Swaying slightly on his feet, he thought he saw a moment of softness flicker over Yuri’s face before vanishing into disgust.

“Yuck,” Yuri gagged, sticking his tongue out. “I’ll tell him… something…”

Ignoring Yuuri’s whispered appreciation, Yuri jammed his ear on the crack of the door and squinted, seemingly finally agreeing about their need to abandon their location. Curling his fingers around the door handle, he yanked it open and shoved Yuuri out. “Go away,” he hissed, the door clicking closed to leave Yuuri standing alone.

The area around him was vacant and the administrative personnel who should have been seated at the front desk were nowhere to be found. Taking the only stroke of luck to be thrown his way, Yuuri slipped toward the exit and back out into the world.

* * *

If someone asked him how he made it to the door of Celestino’s travel home, Yuuri would be clueless as to any of the details of his walk. His brain was a muddled puddle of overemotional reactions, too much information, and not enough questions answered. Life felt like a timeless blur, the minutes bleeding over into an hour when he finally found himself stumbling into safety.

Loud bursts of voices greeted Yuuri as he entered Celestino’s trailer, making him wince as if he had been slapped. His father stood next to Celestino, both of them drinking suspiciously dark liquid and looking calmer than they should. Phichit was cross-legged on the small couch, hands laced around a cup brimming with sparkling blue fluid which reflected its color onto his chin. No one moved to touch him, but spotting his mother seated on a small wooden chair, Yuuri found himself immediately crumbling to the floor at her feet. Pillowing his head on her lap, Yuuri felt his eyes dragging closed as familiar fingers laced into his hair.

Warmth spread through him, rolling waves of comfort tingling first at his scalp and then trailing through his body until even his toes curled with the strength of love pouring into him. His mother was healing him, physically and emotionally, and Yuuri didn’t have the energy to protest the gentle caress of his mother’s talents.

Raw and tattered edges knitted themselves back together, bruises paled in color, and for the first time in more than a day, Yuuri’s heart beat leisurely in his chest. Every piece of him was relaxing under his mother’s will and Yuuri struggled to keep himself from chasing the allure of sleep.

“Makkachin’s in trouble.” Hearing the slur in his own words, Yuuri shook his head where he rested in his mother’s lap. “Dad… she…”

“I know.” Squatting down at Yuuri’s side, Toshiya looked weary. “She’s a fine animal. We’ll offer him top dollar. And open access to her any time.”

“Although that last part… is off the record.” Celestino’s stern voice was an order to all of those in the room. “The Federation views these animals as tools for success, not beings in their own right.” Holding up a hand, Celestino halted Phichit’s obvious desire to argue. “You don’t have to agree with it. You don’t fly for them. But it is bad form to criticize a competitor. I have my own opinions, which you will never hear me speak.”

A huff from his father told Yuuri that perhaps there was one person Celestino was willing to share such coveted information with. Twisting his position, Yuuri lifted only his eyes when his mother securely held his head in place. “They kill them.” Yuuri heard Phichit’s shocked gasp and felt validated by his best friend’s outrage, even if Celestino looked more reserved than alarmed. “How can that be right?”

“It’s not!” Phichit declared, sitting up and letting his legs drop over the edge of the sofa. “It’s not right, and you all know it! That’s why Victor is always going on about the griffins! Because in the Federation, they don’t care about them!”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Celestino looked every bit the exasperated man who he deserved to be. “There’s nothing we can do about how they run their outfit. But Toshiya can help Makkachin and that’s what we’re going to do.”

“And Victor?” Shaking loose from his mother’s hold, Yuuri wobbled as he stood. A calm hand clamped down on his shoulder to steady him and Yuuri regarded his father with a drowsy smile. “I went to see him-”

“You did WHAT?!” Celestino yelled, shoving up from his resting place. “Yuuri, you can’t do that! You’ve risked enough already. Don’t go there, I told you not to go there!”

“Stop!” Yuuri held his head, leaning further onto his father’s side. “Stop yelling at me and tell me something useful. Everyone is talking in circles, no one is just saying _talking_. Is Victor in danger? Do they want to kill him too?” A sob bubbled out of Yuuri’s throat as he finally voiced his greatest fear out loud. 

Smaller hands curled around Yuuri’s waist, pulling him back until his knees hit the hard edge of the chair his mother had stood from. A glass was placed in his hands, the familiar tangy scent reminding him of the way Victor had struggled to consume the same potion. Begrudgingly, he guzzled the contents of the glass, setting it down on the table with a dull thud and turning his expectant stare to his coach.

“Oh for _fucks_ sake,” Celestino swore, grabbing another chair and dragging it in front of Yuuri. Sitting down, Celestino patted his knees twice before speaking. “Your contract… it’s a contract between you as the rider and the organization. While complicated, it boils down to a mutually beneficial relationship by which you are supported and also provide financial support to the organization. That’s why your room, board, stable fees, etcetera are all covered, but your sponsorships and performance awards are split between you and the powers that be.”

Raising an eyebrow, Yuuri opened his mouth to ask why Celestino was telling him information he already knew. A shake of Celestino’s head kept Yuuri quiet.

“The Federation is unlike any other aerie. They _own_ their riders. In Victor’s case, they paid his parents a large sum of money to take their son away and never return him. Victor’s life and livelihood are all supplied by the Federation, and they very much believe he owes it to them to not only win but to also be obedient.”

Shocked into silence, Yuuri could only stare at his feet while his brain tried to wrap his head around the information being presented.

“When Victor’s parents died, the game changed. Perhaps at some point they felt guilty for what they had done, but no one will ever know. Their estate was so well-drafted that even the Federation couldn’t find a way to intervene with Victor’s acquisition of his parents’ wealth. He purchased Makkachin, a first for a rider within the Federation and a truly unappreciated move by those at the top. Then he purchased part of their aerie. It was a bold move, but the target he made of himself is unimaginable to a reasonable person.” Celestino paused to reach behind himself and retrieve his drink. Clinking his glass against the edge of Toshiya’s, he swallowed the remaining contents without stopping.

“So… they don’t like him… even though he is their star?” Yuuri rubbed the heel of his hand over his forehead, memories of Victor’s words in the cave colliding with Celestino’s information. “And they… the Federation’s riders… aren’t allowed to talk to anyone else… because we might find this out?”

Sliding his glass onto the table, Celestino sunk back in his chair. “They like how much money Victor makes for them and how much his fans like him. They don’t like… everything else.” Clasping his hands together, Celestino rested them on his lap. “As for other riders, the Federation feeds their riders with elitist bullshit so they honestly believe other riders are beneath them. I don’t know what their motivations are, but my assumptions are similar to yours.”

Brows furrowed together, Yuuri leaned forward. “Victor talking to me then…”

“Is frowned upon… and may be in violation of his contract for all I know.” Matching Yuuri’s stance, Celestino stared hard into Yuuri’s eyes. “Did you see him?”

Swallowing, Yuuri shook his head, feeling the pressure of his heart beat resurging in his ears. “Yuri Plisetsky stopped me. He told me about the animals, and that Victor is being kept unconscious while he heals, and that I have to stay away.” Murmurs behind him between his parents barely registered as Yuuri recalled the words declaring Victor’s love for him. “I saw Makkachin too, and Lilia, and I overheard her talking to Yakov. They all sound worried.”

“You accomplished a lot in the little time you spent disobeying my requests.” Celestino almost sounded proud as he reached out to pat Yuuri’s shoulder. “I can’t promise you that his life isn’t in danger… or other things…” Yuuri opened his mouth to request specification on what other things, but Celestino spoke over him. “The Federation has bizarre notions and practices that are beyond me to understand so the best I can do is protect you from accidentally falling into their hands.”

Warning looks shot from Celestino over Yuuri’s shoulder making Yuuri want to turn around and scream at his parents to tell him the rest. Realizing it wasn’t worth the argument, Yuuri resigned himself to listening to the rest of Celestino’s words. “And I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’ve done more than anyone else could have… no matter how foolish all of this was. Trust in Yakov… and in Lilia… and in Vict-”

Shoving up from his chair, Yuuri waved away his mother’s hands when she reached for him again, unable to convince himself to listen to anything else. Maybe Victor’s life was in danger, maybe it was his livelihood or something that Yuuri hadn’t even thought of. He had enough answers for the time being, enough instances of people telling him he was useless and enough confirmed worries to last him a lifetime. Feigning exaggerated wooziness, he let Phichit catch him under the arm when the world threatened to actually spin out from under him.

Faintly, he heard Celestino direct Phichit to the small bedroom in the back and let himself be guided through the folding door. Sinking down on the bed, Yuuri waited until Phichit had pulled the door closed to speak.

“I’m going to perform today,” Yuuri scooted back on the bed, crossing his legs and clenching his fists over his knees. “I saw the people lined up when I was flying in,” he noted when Phichit raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hm,” Phichit acknowledged Yuuri’s observation while rooting around in the drawer of Celestino’s small desk. “Races first, then performances, same as always.” The remark was muffled by Phichit’s head ducking into the small cabinet underneath the desk. “Starting later though, few hours left before racers will warm up, another hour after that before they’ll let spectators in. Lots of snow to clear… obviously.” Producing a pen and a pad of paper, Phichit smiled as he crawled onto the bed with Yuuri. “I’m assuming you’re not napping then?”

Plucking the offered pen from Phichit’s fingers, Yuuri smiled as he tried to pretend his body wasn’t fighting him on the issue. “How do you feel about helping me change up my routine?” He pulled the cap from the pen and grinned around the plastic as Phichit smirked at him.

“You’re my favorite crazy person, Yuuri Katsuki.” Bumping his shoulder into Yuuri’s side, Phichit smiled brightly as he crossed his legs.

“And you’re mine,” Yuuri replied, shuffling backwards to lean on Celestino’s headboard, his mind already mending together two routines to create something that would stun the world.

And hopefully send a very important message to one very important person.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for more answers... 
> 
> Also, sorry for the lack of chapter summaries. I don't know how exactly to write them without giving away what's going to happen, so I've just let most of them be. (Also I am going to take time tonight to catch up on responding to all of your wonderful comments! Thank you so much for each of them!!)
> 
> If you haven't realized it, we are now sprinting toward the end of this fic together since the conclusion has to be posted by the 27th!

Sterile, blank walls surrounded Victor on all sides as he slowly blinked open his eyes. Fear hit him first, bringing him into a sudden sitting position on the stiff bed. Motion next to him made him shrink sideways as the sound of rustling robes swept from the unfamiliar person sitting beside his bed. Confusion had him sliding backwards, whimpering at the faded soreness which trembled through his body.

“Where am-” The question hung uncompleted as the cryptically robed individual rose from their seat and disappeared from sight.

His knuckles ached where he had them wrapped in his blanket, joints white from the strain at which Victor was curling them. There wasn’t a clock to tell him what time it was and the only window was covered by a heavy black shade shutting him away from the rest of the world. _No different than the rest of my life_ , he thought bitterly, lying back on the elevated bed with a disgruntle frown.

Staring blankly at the ceiling, Victor urged his mind to resurface any details that had been stolen in his lost time. Faint memories of a glowing cave, an endless cycle of pain and comfort, and the softness of a griffin raised question marks in Victor’s mind. Just behind those wisps of memory was something else, a sheer ghost covered in sheets of longing and desire.

Frustrated with his own mental limitations, Victor slapped an open palm to his forehead as if it could rattle the splintered fragments into full pictures. Shaking his head violently from side to side, Victor tried to clear the haze that refused to dissolve. There was something there he wanted to know, despite the heavy veil that simply wouldn’t lift. Growling, Victor closed his eyes and concentrated.

Useless as the endeavor was, Victor continued to fight his own mind until the recognizable sound of his coach’s voice broke through his focus.

Yakov strode into the room with the air of a man who couldn’t be stopped by a full army. Healers flocked behind him, the black and whites of their standard uniforms looking plain and unremarkable compared to the rich blues and reds which outlined Yakov’s attire. Gruffly, Yakov waved them away, scowling deeply until the last had left the room with the door clicking shut behind them.

“Victor.”

The reprimanding way Yakov said his name made Victor swallow hard. Vaguely he recalled a fight between them, but it felt as if it had happened in another lifetime. None of the details Victor could recall explained why he was lying in a healing room or why Yakov was surveying him with such open concern.

Dragging a chair forward, Yakov set it down on the side of Victor’s bed. His frown deepened as Victor continued to blink vacantly. A breath shook from between his teeth as Yakov rested his hands palms down on his own thighs. “What can you remember?”

Wrinkling his brow, Victor tilted his head at the odd inquiry. If he was injured and receiving treatment, it would be more proper for Yakov to ask him how he was feeling, rather than questioning his memory. Stumped about what his answer should be, Victor shrugged and responded, “I’m right. You’re wrong. What else do you need to know?”

“I see your terrible humor was left intact.” The tension keeping Yakov sitting pin straight didn’t ease. “Why are you here, Victor? Can you tell me that?”

Panic zipped through Victor, his eyes darting around the room for any clues as to how he came to be a patient in the healing facility. A flash of a cave and a beautiful set of brown eyes made his head throb, the blockage in his brain fighting desperately to keep him from fully recovering the images.

Groaning, Victor cradled his head, rocking forward while bringing his knees up. Curled into a ball, Victor began to cry, feeling helpless and lost for reasons he couldn’t grasp.

A hand, warm and surprisingly gentle, rested in the middle of Victor’s back. Yakov didn’t speak as he slowly rubbed circles into Victor’s weirdly tired muscles, but the unease creased every portion of his wrinkled face. Waiting for Victor’s first round of tears to pass, Yakov encouraged Victor to lay back by pushing his shoulders.

Eyes returning to the squares of the ceiling, Victor listened to his own breathing hitch in his effort to calm down. Blindly he groped across the bed, searching for a hand that he hadn’t held since he was first brought to the aerie. Curling his fingers around the knobs of Yakov’s knuckles, Victor took one deep breath and exhaled while whispering, “Tell me.”

“You came here severely injured after falling from Makkachin,” squeezing Victor’s hand once, Yakov paused. “She came back alone and you were rescued by another rider. Not someone from the Federation so they…”

“My memory.” Victor broke at his realization, all of the hints inside his mind dancing their mockery in his direction. “How could you-”

“I didn’t,” Yakov growled, scooting his chair closer and causing it to make a horrendous scrapping sound over the floor. “You were out of it when you came in, babbling nonsense and begging for- well nonsense- they had to render you unconscious so you would stop fighting them.” Gripping Victor’s hand tighter, Yakov’s voice began to shake. “I gave them strict orders to heal only… I stepped out for only a minute… only to tell the press where to shove their swarmy noses… and when I came back…”

Turning his head on the pillow, Victor saw the grief ripple over Yakov’s face. Shifting, he wrapped his free hand over the one Yakov had fisted on the bed. “I believe you…” he whispered, waiting until Yakov looked at him to try a smile.

“They didn’t get very far. Whoever told them to remove your memories didn’t want all of your flight experience to be erased. But whatever progress they made… well… I suppose they erased most of what happened out there.” Yakov bowed his head to rest his forehead on their joined hands. “I’m sorry, Vitya…”

Bending forward, Victor placed a kiss on Yakov’s head. What little he could remember of his relationship with his parents compared in no way to the love and respect he had for the man currently begging for his forgiveness. In recent years they had fought like adversaries, but that was spurred by Yakov’s need to protect Victor from himself. He understood this, even when it made him angry.

“Who saved me, Yakov? You know right…” Hopeful in thought and heart, Victor nudged Yakov with his forearm. “There are shadows… in my head… maybe if you tell me…” His face fell when Yakov shook his head.

“You know I can’t,” leaning closer Yakov lowered his voice. “Not now,” he added, the tone of his voice emphasizing that he wouldn’t withhold the information forever. Letting go of Victor’s hand, Yakov reached for his pocket and slipped a tiny communicator into Victor’s palm. “I have to prepare our riders for today’s events. The only healer who is allowed to touch you now is Hiroko Katsuki, special permission granted due to the severity of your injuries. If anyone else tries to lay hands on you, call me… immediately.”

“Katsuki…” Victor felt a pulse of recognition, firing like a stab of brilliant light in his synapses. “Wait… as in…” A hand clamped over his mouth kept him from vocalizing his thought. Nodding at the stern look leveled at him, Victor shook himself free. “I suppose… I’m not allowed to fly?” He watched Yakov’s face closely and felt nerves flare in his stomach at the anguish he found there.

“You aren’t… but… more… remarkable, I suppose, is that Makkachin can’t fly.” Yakov waited patiently as his words sunk in.

“Is she… oh God… Yakov, where is she… I have to-” Throwing the blankets off his legs, Victor swung himself to the edge of the bed only realizing his own lack of strength when he went to stand up and nearly fell to the ground. Caught in his coach’s arms, Victor shook as he scrambled to grip at Yakov’s shoulders. “Yakov, let me go!”

“She’s alright, she’s alright,” Yakov shoved Victor back onto the bed, clenching both hands on neither side of Victor’s neck. “Look at me. You can’t walk, your body is still damaged. Lilia is with Makkachin. She is safe. We will talk more about it later, but you have to stay here, in this bed.”

“What the hell.” Twisting in Yakov’s grasp, Victor tried to stand again only to be shoved back. “You can’t tell me that she can’t fly and expect me to just sit here!” Lifting his hands to shove at Yakov’s chest, Victor felt like a toddler throwing a tantrum. His limbs were too weak to do any sort of damage, and he felt himself wither with helplessness. “I can’t… Yakov… they can’t…” His mind was as jumbled as his words, and a rush of déjà vu swept over him as he slumped back in the bed.

Cowering away from Yakov’s touch, Victor curled into a ball and pulled the blanket to his chin. Painful flashes were teasing his mind, recollections of strong arms and a reassuring smile that wanted him to remember. Worse were the choppy sensations of falling and the tiniest sliver of recollection of a bent wing.

Numbly, Victor felt Yakov pat his shoulder and gave a weak shrug to push off the affection. He didn’t need anyone’s pity, all he needed was to be left alone to shrivel inside of memories he couldn’t hold.

“Remember what I said… no one but Hiroko. Don’t try to stand. It’ll be alright.” Footsteps took Yakov out of the room without Victor raising his eyes to watch him go.

Alone, Victor wallowed in his own isolation wondering exactly how much darker his world could get.

* * *

Standing in the holding tunnels, Yuuri leaned his shoulder on the nearest wall, eyes tracking the movements of all of the racers pouring back in after the conclusion of their events. Victor’s team had taken the top spot in three races, but Yuuri’s teammates had managed to snag two of the top positions, in addition to the most coveted prize for fastest completion. The prize money was a handsome sum and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth watching the other racers raise Leo onto their shoulders in celebration.

Their happiness was contagious, the cheers of their team thrumming through the tunnel like a heartbeat. Yuuri had spent his afternoon and warmup hours lost inside his own head and for a moment he allowed himself to get lost in their joy.

A strike to the back of his shoulder knocked Yuuri out of his bubble. Raising his eyebrow, he turned in time to see the youngest members of the Federation’s team shoving through the throng of celebrating racers. One in particular caught his eye, especially when Yuri paused after his failure to slyly catch Yuuri’s attention. “He’s awake,” Yuri whispered, speaking out of the side of his mouth in an impressively covert motion.

Opening his mouth to respond, Yuuri remembered Celestino’s comments and snapped his jaw shut. The monumental risk Yuri had taken by stopping him in the hospital, and then again to provide even the smallest amount of reassurance, hit Yuuri like a punch to the stomach. There was no reason for Yuri to care, and yet for a second time, he had put Yuuri and Victor above himself. Overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness, Yuuri stayed quiet and resumed his solo mission to hold up the wall.

Cautiously, he eyed the Federation’s team, noting the way they stood without interacting with anyone else. Even Yakov stared straight forward, face stone serious despite the palpable excitement hanging in the air. The other teams chatted among each other, exchanging words of good luck and good fortune. Minami had found a place on the shoulders of another team’s champion obviously prepared to ride his way toward the opening announcements.

The stark difference between the coldness of the Federation riders and every other junior rider made Yuuri’s chest ache. Junior riders were the energy and light of every team, talented beyond belief and burdened only with their own need to succeed. Their races were shorter and performances more limited in their required amount of elements, yet each of them rode with an unwavering love of the sport. Naïveté kept that fire alive and seeing the Federation juniors forced to withhold from that exuberant innocence clenched a tight fist around Yuuri’s heart.

Vibrations shook the tunnel spurred on by the clapping hands and stomping feet of the spectators filling every available space in the stadium. The collective volume of their voices flooded into the tunnel as the doors were thrown open, sending the junior performers into the middle of the chaotic enthusiasm which only increased with their appearance.

Another hit on Yuuri’s shoulder had him twisting around, coming face-to-face with his best friend. Phichit was the only rider (outside of Victor) who could make a pair of riding goggles and padded flying pants look attractive. Unable to suppress the smile that desperately wanted to be let loose, Yuuri grinned at Phichit’s conspiratorial smirk.

Once the juniors were finished, there wouldn’t be anything standing between Yuuri and the boldest performance of his life. Lilia had said that she hoped he and Victor had discovered a strength in each other, and Yuuri planned on putting that strength on display for the world to see. His only hope was that Victor would be watching and that he would know that he wasn’t alone any longer.

Feeling the weight of his decisions, Yuuri’s smile slipped.

Luckily, Phichit was there to catch him, tossing his arm over Yuuri’s shoulders and suggesting they go watch the babies do their thing.

Hips bumping, Yuuri let Phichit lead him to the outside bleachers hoping the chill of the air and brightness of the late afternoon sun would help him chase away his nerves.

* * *

From his spot under the blanket, Victor tried to shut out the noise thundering from beyond his blacked out windows. Cheers that once fueled his inspiration burned across his healing wounds searing their spiteful sting over his skin. Bitterness rose inside of him along with a vindictive pleasure that this time he wasn’t the monkey performing for the prize of someone else’s purse.

His room had been blissfully empty since Yakov had left, minus the strange cloaked figure that floated intermittently in front of the window in his room’s door. There was an odd sense of being protected brought by the rustling cloak and Victor had decided against seeking explanation for the person’s existence.

Isolation gave him a chance to meditate. Hours had passed with Victor’s eyes closed, brain trekking closer and closer to whatever was hidden behind the wizard’s curtain in his mind. All of the memories were there, like unsaid words on the tip of Victor’s tongue, but they continued to evade him no matter how hard Victor tried to snag each hint.

Curling into a tighter ball, Victor frowned at the sound of his door opening. “Go away,” he growled, not caring in the least about his reputation of being sweet and nice. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to hide away from the world.

A tug on the bottom of his blanket made Victor “ _humph_ ” as he pulled the fabric further over his head. His fingers stung as the cloth was ripped out of them and his body protested the cold of the air which washed over him. Flopping onto his back, Victor glared at the hanging hood of his blanket stealer and gripped the tiny communicator in his fist. “Don’t touch me.”

“Yuck,” the figure responded, a familiar tone of disgust floating from beneath the hood. In raising a hand to shove the hood backwards, the baggy black sleeve revealed bony wrists and delicate fingers underneath its hem of gold.

“Yuri?” Victor asked, his hands dropping into his lap from their defensive stance. “What… have you been here the whole time?” Feeling unafraid of the baby of the Federation, Victor slumped back onto his bed.

“No… idiot.” Pushing at the sleeves of the robe, Yuri made a frustrated noise when they continued to fall back to his wrists. “I had my own performance. Won, by the way, if you care.”

“Congratulations,” Victor said dryly, regretting slightly his inability to be truly happy for the young man in front of him. Yuri was a kid, yet the Federation had stolen all of his childlike qualities until the fifteen year old appeared more like a grumpy retiree than a teenager. “Just take it off!” Victor snapped, waving a hand at Yuri’s continuous fidgeting with the ill-fitted robe.

“I can’t!” Yuri shouted back, flailing his arms and looking like an absurd bird in the process. “Yakov said we have to wear it. _For you_.”

Frowning, Victor crossed his arms over his chest and weakly noted the numbness in his upper arms. “Why for me? I don’t care what you look like.”

“I want to smother you with a pillow.” The muscles in Yuri’s jaw flexed as he looked to the ceiling. “They’re Guardian robes. The healers here are really superstitious and they won’t come near you as long as there’s a Guardian protecting you. Yakov said they can’t touch you anymore for… some reason, so everyone was taking turns. Mila was here when you woke up.”

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Victor shifted to rest his hands in his lap. “I didn’t… thanks… for caring…” The threat of tears choked the rest of his thoughts and Victor bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep them from falling.

Disappearing from the side of the bed, Yuri reappeared with a rolling chair. “I don’t… by the way… care that is. I made a stupid promise and I don’t have a reason to break it.” Nudging the chair up against the bed, Yuri kicked the locks into to place harder than they needed to be. “Get in.”

Eying the hard wood of the chair and the fierce determination set on Yuri’s face, Victor decided that arguing wasn’t worth the energy it would cost him. Fumbling over his weak legs, Victor kept his gratitude to himself when Yuri caught him and guided him into the chair’s seat. A blanket was laid over Victor’s lap and then Yuri was once again covering his face with the flop of his hood.

As they wheeled out of the room, Victor couldn’t help wondering who Yuri had made a promise to and if Victor should have already known the answer.

* * *

All around Yuuri the stadium was chanting his name in a steady beat of elated optimism. Standing with his hand held high, Yuuri left his goggles pushed back until the floating screen zoomed in on his face. With a smirk, Yuuri leveled a wink directly into the projector which left the crowd shouting their appreciation as he shoved his goggles down and threw a leg over Vicchan’s back.

The opening chords of performance music silenced the screaming, mouths dropping open in shock as Yuuri rose from the ground and executed the opening moves to Victor’s performance. Fluidly, the music flowed into the opening bars of Yuuri’s own song leading Yuuri to the dips and circles which made up his own opening.

Two notes held their pitch, a perfect harmony of the lowest note in Victor’s song and the highest note in Yuuri’s. As the note swelled, Yuuri and Vicchan flew straight up, climbing to a height above even the cheapest seats of the stadium.

Then, Yuuri leaned backwards and fell.

The sudden silence of the music was filled by the collective gasp of the entire audience. Yuuri freefell toward the ground, arms and legs stretched toward the setting sun and wind rushing passed his face.

A trill, low and private, sounded from Yuuri’s right. Twisting in the air, Yuuri reached out to seize the horn of his saddle. Air whooshed around him as Yuuri swung home on Vicchan’s back just as Vicchan curved away from the ground, his belly mere centimeters from disqualification.

Amazement roared through the audience like thunder. Yuuri could feel the force of it drumming in his veins as they took off toward the hoops. One hoop, two hoops, three hoops, they cleared them all before circling each in turn and setting them off in their own free spins with the force of Vicchan’s wings.

Around him, the beautiful harmony of piano and violins continued to sing as Yuuri weaved his and Victor’s stories together through the sky.

* * *

Sitting in a wheeled chair on the roof of the healing facility, a single tear slide down Victor’s cheek. For so many years, Victor had wanted nothing more than a chance to talk to Yuuri, just a moment to connect with a performer he found both beautiful and incredible in every way. Now, when he couldn’t even be there, Yuuri was stunning the crowd with a gorgeous rendition of their intermingled programs.

And Victor didn’t even know why.

“I don’t… why would he…” Victor asked with a heaving breathe, glancing away only for a second to make sure Yuri heard his question.

“Why?!” Yuri grumbled, his eyes not leaving their path toward Yuuri and his griffin. “He flew into a blizzard to save your dumb ass and you’re asking why about this?” Shaking his head in his patented adults-are-dumb-as-fuck way, Yuri missed the shock erupt on Victor’s face.

Eyes blowing wide, Victor felt the corner of his mental veil lift. _“Stop… stop… it’s okay,”_ he heard the Yuuri of his mind whisper before the door was slammed and Victor's brain was violently yanked away from his own memory.

Letting his head fall into his hands, Victor didn’t care what Yuri would think as he began to weep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote it and I still want to wrap Victor in soft blankets and tell him everything will be ok.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this weird meltdown which prevented me from posting this chapter, and frankly considered whether I needed to do some major editing of the remainder of the story to make it less predictable. 
> 
> But then my friend (and so often my voice of reason) Atelerix, reminded me that if people are able to guess or predict certain aspects, it means that the story has lead them to those guesses and they have been caring enough to be paying real attention to the details presented. Which... in the end, shouldn't that be what a story does? 
> 
> So, I pulled myself back from pulling a "ha ha you could've never guessed this!" and instead I am posting the chapter, as originally written, and I am congratulating all of you who noticed some key elements that come into play here. Thank you for loving this story enough to pay attention to these details and for sharing your thoughts with me. It's truly the best blessing of fanfiction in my opinion.

Closing statements were short and sweet from the hosting aerie’s officials, thanking the audience and all of the participants for their contributions to the success of the day. Trophies were handed out in symbolic gesture, preserving the monetary awards for the feast held privately after the festivities concluded, but still giving the crowd another opportunity to cheer for their winners. The applause for Yuuri as he received his trophy was deafening and shook the stadium in a dangerous sway as the crowd collectively shouted its love for the day’s greatest victor.

And then, as quickly as the stadium had filled, the vast rise of seats was eerily vacant.

Riders, coaches, and animals milled about below the roof posing for pictures and calling happily between themselves, causing a pang of jealousy to finally flare inside of Victor’s chest. This was the one part that he still enjoyed – the wave of energy, relief, and happiness which inevitably came from being amongst the winners. From his place on the edge of the roof, Victor was acutely aware of how unmissed his presence was and he waved a hand at Yuri to request to go back before he shed anymore tears.

Maybe someone down there was missing him. Maybe it was _the_ someone he was wishing it to be. Unfortunately his heart wasn’t strong enough for maybes.

Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Victor discreetly examined his teammate’s stoic face. Yuri had won his race and instead of standing on the podium, Yuri had stood next to him on the empty roof. Victor almost voiced how much he appreciated Yuri missing out on the excitement to play babysitter to Victor’s useless self. Deciding against sentimental statements that might get him thrown from the roof, Victor folded his hands in his lap and remained silent as Yuri pushed him inside.

Making their way back to Victor’s room unnoticed was far harder than it was to originally sneak out. Now that the staff were no longer distracted by the day’s festivities, many of them were milling around and seemingly suspicious of Victor’s existence outside of his room. None of them approached the duo though, eyes instantly taking in the jet black of the robe hiding Yuri’s face and scurrying away before saying a word.

Loneliness swept over Victor as Yuri guided him through the doorway to his room. Every wall was bare save for the black shade still secured over his window. _Surely prisoners had more interesting cells_ , Victor thought viciously, yanking himself a little too hard from the chair and jamming his hip hard into the side of the bed.

A flash of memory doubled Victor over causing his face to smash onto the thin mattress. His hip hitting a tree root, his breath knocked clean from his chest and white blinding him from all sides. Fire burning down his leg as he crawled further up the tree, calling Makkchin’s name once before curling over the roughness of the bark.

Panicked, Yuri grabbed at Victor’s body, catching him under the armpits and hefting him into the bed. Discombobulated words fell from Victor’s lips making more noise than Yuri thought was safe. Waving his hands wildly Yuri tried to shush him as the sound of stomping feet approached the door.

Two healers entered the room, looming much larger than Victor expected them to be. Dazedly caught between the flickering memory and the room around him, Victor fumbled at his side with his left hand. Finally catching his fingers in the seam of his pocket, he jammed his palm against the communicator.

* * *

Everyone wanted a piece of Yuuri. Other than his dramatic fall last year, Yuuri had never received the amount of press attention being aimed at him now. All around him, people called his name in a frightening mix of familiar voices and unknown demands. His head was a mess of emotions and he bit his bottom lip to keep from screaming.

“Katsuki Yuuri!”

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri opened his eyes to the expectant face of Morooka.

“Yuuri that was some performance!” Morooka complimented, offering his hand for Yuuri to shake. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to share your inspiration for such a record-breaking, mind-blowing result?”

Catching Celestino’s gaze, Yuuri hesitated until his coach nodded. The trust Celestino had shown this afternoon was a feeling Yuuri would always remember. “Let’s talk,” Yuuri suggested, one hand curling around Vicchan’s reigns and the other pointing to a more private spot on the other end of field.

Celestino trusted Yuuri to know what to say and how to handle his longest supporter. Yuuri prayed that he could find the right words without putting Victor in jeopardy. Knowing he wasn’t ready for this but couldn’t let the chance slip by, Yuuri nervously clicked his tongue to encourage Vicchan to follow him.

Together with Morooka, they separated from the elated chaos of Yuuri’s peers crossing the deserted performance arena underneath the setting sun.

* * *

The healers advanced toward Victor’s bed, their eyes steely gray and faces set in blank determination. Chilling cold frosted the room, dropping the temperature until Victor could see his breath in front of his face. Not even the outside wind could rival the frost spilling from the corrupted healers.

Neither of them carried the reassurance and softness Victor was accustomed to and he bristled with every step they took. Victor shook as he watched them move, knowing that they were only partially aware of what they were doing. Victor’s suspicions about the Federation’s tampering burned ugly in his stomach as he forced himself to sit tall in preparation of his own defense.

“You can’t be in here!” Yuri shouted, realizing too late that by speaking he was revealing himself underneath his disguise. Giving up on hiding, Yuri threw off his hood and stood firmly in front of Victor. Holding up one hand, Yuri curled his other into a fist, ready to defend Victor by physical force if the need presented itself.

A crackle broke the growing tension in the room as splinters in the frost melted the menacing ice from the walls. Warmth poured into the room, a vibrant wave of love and kindness filling every corner as swift footsteps carried the bringer through the doorway. “Hello friends, I believe you are in the wrong place,” a gentle voice spoke, but the power beneath it was strong enough to send a shiver through Victor’s soul.

Peeking around Yuri’s side, Victor stared at the friendly smile of Hiroko Katsuki.

“Katsuki Hiroko,” one of the healers acknowledged in a monotone voice, bowing deeply before Yuuri’s mother. The reverence that the healers felt was also tangible in the room, oddly mixing with their unnatural coldness and the soothing vibes of Hiroko. Fascinated, Victor watched with wide eyes as Yuuri’s mother waved the intruding healers out and smartly shut the door behind them.

“Thank you, Katsuki Hiroko.” Easing himself into a relaxed sitting position, Victor offered a hand for her to shake as Yuri stepped aside. He heard him mumble something about guarding the door before slipping from the room with his hood back in place.

Awkwardly, Victor’s hand hung in the air untaken until he instead found himself wrapped in the sincerest hug he had ever experienced. “Call me Hiroko,” she said, soft fingers stroking the back of Victor’s head and making him feel loopy. Falling forward to more closely cling to Hiroko’s back, Victor let himself absorb all of the comfort she was willing to give. “Let’s see what we can do, shall we?” she asked, humming her acknowledgement when Victor nodded into her shoulder.

Calmness settled through Victor’s body and his mind relaxed as the fear darkening the unknown corners of his brain began to diminish.

Distantly, he could recall the way it felt to be held by another pair of arms, holding him close and sheltering him from the cold of the storm outside of a cave opening and inside of Victor’s own heart.

* * *

After performances and interviews the teams were all required to attend a formal dinner where the successes were celebrated and losses were bandaged with heavy amounts of mead and strong liquor. Attendance at these pompous affairs was mandatory for all of those participating in the events as were the smiles each rider was obligated to wear despite any earlier outcome.

Normally, Yuuri prepared for the misery of formal presentations by taking shots of stolen alcohol mixed with small bits of his mother’s calming potion. Phichit generally joined him in this ritual and recently Leo and Chris had made appearances in their quarters wanting to numb the pain of loss or calm the shake of nerves before pretending to be good sports in front of their sponsors. They had formed an oddly tight friend group out of the ragtag collection of performers and racers, creating a support system unique to the four of them.

That closeness had made it exceptionally hard for Yuuri to walk away from their ritual, opting to drag his overtired body back to rest at Vicchan’s side and defiantly ignore his obligations as the day’s highest paid winner.

Unrolling his mat over the straw in Vicchan’s stall, Yuuri caught the curious look Vicchan was aiming at his back. “Don’t start with me,” Yuuri grumbled, tossing his sleeping roll over the mat and toeing off his boots. “Mom and Dad gave me enough of a lecture… and who knows what Celestino will say.” Shuddering, Yuuri tried not to think about the amount of punishment laps that would be the fate of his future self when they returned home.

“You though…” Yuuri grinned as he dragged a bucket of Vicchan’s favorite fruits and feed into the stall, “You, my friend, were magnificent.” Laughing as Vicchan nudged him, first to the side of his head and then at his hip to move Yuuri out of the way of his treat, Yuuri missed the sounds of approaching footsteps.

“You flew well today.”

A chill raced down Yuuri’s spine, freezing his blood and movements with a single four word sentence. The voice was familiar in a way that made Yuuri’s stomach clench and his shoulders tense. Deliberately moving in a controlled turn, Yuuri raised his head.

Close up the man looked even older and crustier than he had outside of Lilia’s trailer. Deep set frown lines spoke to a life of bitter unhappiness and his perfectly pulled sneer emphasized every ounce of dishonesty in his statement. This was not a man with a mission to make nice. This was a man sent to intimidate and scare.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Yuuri tilted his head and peered down the bridge of his nose. “Thank you,” he said, keeping his words curt and uninviting. Even if Celestino were to reprimand him now, the stranger’s appearance outside of Vicchan’s stall was all the support Yuuri needed for why he was sleeping here.

“I wonder…” trailing long crooked fingers over the top of the wall, the man raised an eyebrow as he spoke. “Where it was… that you obtained permission… to use another rider’s routine.” Three quick taps on the wood beam and the hand was gone.

“That routine was mine. Would you like to see the notes and application which were approved earlier this afternoon?” Under any other circumstance, Yuuri would break under the pressure of the dark gaze boring holes in his head, but he had no doubts about this. He had walked a fine line within the overseeing rules and regulations, but he hadn’t broken a single one.

Arching his top lip, Yuuri’s aggressor showed his yellowing teeth. “Think you’re clever do you? Well, you’re not. You’ll see what happens to riders who-”

“Who what?”

Yuuri was glad that focus had been drawn away from him as the sound of his father’s voice booming through the holding stalls made him jump. Slowly his smile spread as Toshiya made his way down the center aisle, dark eyes gleaming with protective threat.

“You have no business here,” Toshiya declared, his everyday friendliness nowhere to be seen as he placed himself between the Federation’s henchman and Vicchan’s stall. Yuuri couldn’t see his face, but he knew what his father looked like on the rare occasion when he lost his temper.

Once, a Pegasus had been brought to their home after being badly neglected by her owner. His father had spent four days earning her trust and treating her wounds when she wouldn’t allow anyone else near her. Their bond had saved her life and when her idiotic owner had tried to reclaim her, Toshiya had tossed him onto the road with a stern command to never return.

Judging by the paling cheeks and retreating form of the other man, Yuuri guessed his father’s face was probably conveying a very similar deadly rage.

“If you come near my son, or any other rider… or any of these animals… you won’t live to regret it.” Taking a step forward, Toshiya’s round cheeks and fluffy tummy did nothing to detract from the strength of his threat. Everyone thought of Yuuri’s father as a sweet teddy bear, until they saw him fiercely protecting those he believed to be wrongly harmed.

“Get out.” Moving another step, Toshiya laid his hand flat on the ugly-suit-covered chest in front of him and shoved. With only a parting glare, the man rushed for the exit, letting the stable door bang shut behind him.

Knees buckling underneath him, Yuuri fell to his mat. Up until the blizzard his life had seemed fairly mundane and boring. The rate at which the drama and chaos was escalating made him feel weak physically and mentally.

“Did he hurt you?” Toshiya asked, kneeling down to place a strong hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Yuuri, son, answer me.” Using a bent finger, Toshiya gently tipped Yuuri’s chin upward.

“No,” Yuuri mustered the last of his fading wakefulness to shake his head. “But I have to… stay with Vicchan…” His eyes fell closed without his permission to do so.

Gentle hands guided Yuuri onto his mat, rescuing the blanket trapped underneath him and pulling it over his shoulders. A light brush near his temple made Yuuri sigh.

Scratching near the door of Vicchan’s stall made Yuuri twist sideways. Toshiya settled into a chair, crossing one leg and raising a thermos Yuuri hadn’t noticed. Steam curled around his chin as he whispered, “sleep, Yuuri.”

Unable to resist his body’s need to rest any longer, Yuuri drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

Lying on his back, Victor sighed at the weightlessness of his limbs. All of the numbness and pain had been replaced with a sensation of floating, although he remained safely tucked under the thin blanket of his bed. No longer was he plagued by strikes of sharp stabbing or unbeatable weakness. In each pass of Hiroko’s hands, Victor could feel himself regaining strength in every inch of his body.

Hiroko had been working with him for hours, combing over every joint and muscle with her patiently potent power. The room glowed with her magic, vibrant colors of blue and purple dancing delightedly over the walls to rid them of their boring lifelessness. Mesmerized by the soothing bob of the waves, Victor relinquished control into the hands of the woman determined to heal him.

Inside of his head, Victor hit rewind on the smattering of memories Hiroko had unblocked. Deeming the magic inhabiting Victor’s brain both infantile and unskilled, Hiroko had swiftly wiped the blockers clean before working on Victor’s physical injuries. Happily left to flip through the moments of Yuuri holding him and the closeness of Yuuri’s smile, Victor closed his eyes and let himself sink deeper into his own story.

Unpleasant reminders of why Victor had been in the woods at all fought their way to the forefront. Frowning, Victor tried to shove them away, grunting in frustration when they simply wouldn’t budge. Cracking his eyes open, he peered at Hiroko under his lashes.

“Some wounds aren’t meant to be healed,” Hiroko answered his unspoken question, pausing in her work at Victor’s knees to consider his sheepish smile. “Although the memories hurt, and your heart has seen so much pain, those wounds make you stronger. If I healed them or blocked them for you, I’m no better than those who wish to control you.”

Soothing fingers worked under Victor’s knee cap, the heat gathering there before the light dissipated under his skin. Victor watched it as he contemplated Hiroko’s words, debating internally whether the loss of character would be worth the loss of pain. Running a hand through his hair, Victor looked up when Hiroko pinched his calf.

“We should take a break,” she suggested, pressing two fingers into the meat of the muscle to relax the knots found within. “Perhaps, a walk?”

The calmness in her demeanor told Victor he didn’t need to ask about the destination. Wherever Hiroko wanted to take him, Victor would trust her to lead the way. 

In truth, Victor would trust Hiroko to take him anywhere, his heart already opened to loving Yuuri’s mother in a way he was never allowed to love his own. Knowing this was another wound that only he could heal, he let the thought fall away as he swung his legs from the side of the bed and prepared for another trek outside of his room.

* * *

“Yuuri… Yuuri…. _Yuuri_ …”

Blearily, Yuuri slapped at the hand shaking his shoulder, groaning his displeasure at being woken from his first sleep in way too many hours. When the hand persisted, Yuuri stubbornly pinched his eyes shut in staunch refusal to wake up.

“He’s like that at the facility too,” another voice joked and Yuuri gritted his teeth at how jovial Celestino sounded. It was true that more than one bucket of water had been used to encourage Yuuri out of his bed, but his coach didn’t have to sound so amused by it.

“Yuuri,” his father said again, shaking his shoulder a little more firmly. “Yuuri, get up. I want you to take me to see Makkachin.”

The request had Yuuri’s eyes snapping open and a scowl immediately landing on his face when three separate voices laughed in amusement around him. Phichit, the traitor, was standing at Celestino’s shoulder, looking red-faced and questionably sober. “What?” he asked dumbly, sitting up to lean on the closest wall. His brain felt foggy from hours of recovery sleep, but his heart was already beating too fast for its own good.

“It’s late, everyone is in bed. Perfect time for us to visit Makkachin undetected.” Toshiya wrapped strong fingers under Yuuri’s arms and lifted him to his feet. “She’s been through a lot, might help her trust me if you came along.”

Worriedly, Yuuri glanced around the stable and back at Vicchan. Leaving his griffin alone was out of the question considering the malicious visit he had received. Before he could make his argument, Phichit cut him off.

“Celestino and I will stay here. Guard Vicchan with our lives.” Giggling, Phichit attempted to salute Yuuri only to poke himself in the eye with his own finger.

“I’ll watch them both,” Celestino added, clearly understanding Yuuri’s apprehension at semi-sober Phichit being able to protect anyone at all. “Go with your dad. We’ll stay until you get back.”

All excuses stolen from him, Yuuri jammed his feet into his boots and bent to give a sleeping Vicchan a kiss on the beak. Patting Phichit on the shoulder, Yuuri managed a smile when his best friend whispered “good luck” a little too close to his face.

Luck was certainly not all Yuuri needed to return to Makkachin’s cabin, but he was too tired to voice this opinion out loud. Instead, he walked shoulder-to-shoulder with his father out into the starry night surrounding the sleeping aerie.

* * *

The wheels of his rolling chair were surprisingly steady over the gravel path as Hiroko pushed Victor toward a cabin at the edge of the woods. He had argued that he didn’t need it any longer, but she had pressed him into the seat anyway and told him to listen.

_“You cannot let anyone know that your memories are back.” Hiroko placed both her hands on his face to calm him while she talked. “As long as the Federation believes that their memory altercations have not been tampered with, they will leave you alone at your coach’s insistence. You are still an asset to them and one they are not eager to lose, which means they’ll do anything to keep you from connecting beyond your team. For your safety, you must remain under my care until you depart and you mustn’t reveal all that you know. I’ll make sure Yuuri understands.”_

Hiroko’s advice circled in Victor’s mind and made his heart constrict tightly in his chest. This event was their last until the next season. When Victor returned with his team to the Federation’s aerie, all his hopes of connecting with Yuuri would be lost again. Knowing how hopelessly he had fallen during their time in the cave and being unable to reach out seemed nothing less than cruel.

Pulled from his thoughts, Victor steadied himself as Hiroko directed his chair up the cabin’s ramp. Three light raps of her knuckles on the door frame brought footsteps on the other side and the appearance of one very exhausted looking Lilia.

“They’re already here,” she spoke softly, eyes darting over the line of trees to her right. “Come quickly now.” Holding the door open, Lilia’s eyes lingered sadly on Victor’s face.

Victor wasn’t expecting to see Yuuri on his knees at Makkachin’s side while she happily nuzzled into the side of his face. One wing was wrapped caringly around Yuuri’s back, cradling him close to her chest as they exchanged contented trills between them. The sight had tears springing to Victor’s eyes and he fought them back to preserve his air of ignorance as to the importance of the love in front of him.

From his place on the floor, Yuuri watched Victor from the corner of his eye, ignoring everyone else in the room. Victor’s hair wasn’t much better than Yuuri had remembered from the cave, but his cheeks were full of color in a way Yuuri had never seen. Victor’s eyes were even more beautiful in the reflection of the purplish blue hue radiating from his mother’s healing blanket draped over his lap. All Yuuri needed was a sign from Victor, an okay to leave Makkachin’s side and welcome Victor back into his arms.

All Yuuri got was a blank stare and a vacant downturn of Victor’s mouth.

“Victor.”

Lilia was speaking to him but Victor felt like he was listening through a bad connection. His mind, body and soul were screaming at him to throw himself at Yuuri’s feet, but sense gifted by Hiroko’s advice kept him frozen. Painstakingly, he pulled his eyes away from the beings he loved most in the world and met Lilia’s tense smile.

“This is Katsuki Toshiya.” Elegantly, Lilia lifted a hand toward a stocky man who Victor hadn’t noticed. Standing next to him was Yakov and Victor felt immediately transparent when his coach’s eyes traced circles over his face. “Yakov has told you about Makkachin’s condition. She cannot compete again, and will need extensive therapy and retraining in order to fly. The Katsukis can provide those things, along with protecting Makkachin from…” Falling silent, Lilia let the inevitability of Makkachin’s fate at the Federation’s hands hang open-ended.

“You want me to give her away?” Even to himself, Victor sounded cold. There was no other way to keep himself from falling apart and he steeled his heart for what would have to happen next.

Toshiya moved to squat at the side of Victor’s chair. Covering Victor’s slender fingers with his own calloused ones, Toshiya spoke softly. “We’ll buy her. Make it official and all of that. But between us, she’ll always be yours and you’ll always be welcome wherever she is.”

_Kindness must be a Katsuki trait_ , Victor thought to himself, battling to hold back all of the things he wanted to say. He wanted to know if the invitation was real, if he could really come whenever he wanted to and if they would always consider Makkachin his griffin. He wanted to know if they could really give her everything she deserved in life and if they would love her the way he always had. Mostly, he wanted to know if they knew how much Victor loved Makkachin… and how much he equally loved their son.

Yet all he allowed himself to say was, “Yakov, write up the papers. I’ll sign whatever you agree to.” Not looking when Toshiya squeezed his hand, Victor could only stare at his own lap wondering how his life had come to this. “Please take me back,” he requested, jolting slightly on his seat when Hiroko turned him around.

Inside of the stall, two very broken hearts watched the man they loved disappear into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 9 and 10 post tomorrow! 
> 
> (Yes, they are late, unneeded existential crisis and all that)
> 
> (Also, Hiroko TRIED to signal Yuuri that there was more going on, but he couldn't see anyone but Victor.)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the beginning of the end! If you have stuck with this story until now - you definitely deserve all that is coming!!

Makkachin’s head laid in Yuuri’s lap, her eyes closed tightly as tears trickled down her silver cheeks. She had been shedding tears since Victor had left, moving closer and closer into Yuuri’s space until both her wings curled around him and her entire head weighed heavily over his legs. Feeling had drained from them nearly an hour ago and yet Yuuri continued to hold her while trailing comforting fingers over the curve of her neck. The reassurances he whispered to the grieving griffin couldn’t touch the sadness in his own heart though.

Yakov and his father had left immediately after Hiroko and Victor, the beginnings of their conversation sealing Makkachin’s fate as the newest resident of the Katsuki’s sanctuary following them out of the door. For her part, Makkachin hadn’t look scared but the way her eyes lingered on the place where Victor had been made Yuuri wonder if she would ever be happy without him.

Yuuri wondered the same about himself.

Lilia had left next, after placing a cup of warm tea on a stool near Yuuri’s shoulder and patting the top of his head once. There was sadness hovering around her too, softening her often hard features and deepening Yuuri’s own misery.

None of them wanted to be in this situation. Not a single one of them wanted to separate Victor and Makkachin and despite Yakov not saying it, Yuuri could see how much he regretted hurting his rider this way. Even knowing it was for the best, the air of regret hung thickly around them all as they made their way in separate directions.

Watching Makkachin slowly relax under his careful cuddling, Yuuri knew that he had his own decisions to make.

The griffin had allowed Yuuri to enter her stall without a hint of apprehension, but had blustered as soon as Toshiya had attempted to do the same. Eventually she had allowed him to approach her, bowing her head in submission although she refused to look at him directly. If Toshiya was offended or worried he hadn’t shown it, settling on his knees to place himself lower than Makkachin’s bow in a sign of respect and his own submission.

Yuuri had held his breath waiting to see if Makkachin would accept his father’s offer, sighing with relieved tension when she had extended her beak into his waiting hand.

Their interaction lasted a handful of minutes before Makkachin withdrew to cradle Yuuri with her unharmed wing. The message was clear, Makkachin would trust Toshiya but she preferred Yuuri’s comfort to his father’s.

This preference was not something that Yuuri took lightly and he knew his father wouldn’t either. There was no doubt in his mind that his parents would take incredibly care of Makkachin, but Yuuri knew she deserved more than that. She deserved someone who would love her as Victor did, as a flying partner and a friend. Makkachin was strong and with the right partner, she could find herself in the sky again.

If Victor couldn’t no longer be that partner, Yuuri would be.

Years had been invested in Yuuri’s career, not just by himself but also by his parents and his coach. Even his sister had contributed, staying locally to train with his mother instead of pursuing a career outside of the family business. Yuuri knew his sister could have surpassed them all in terms of success and fame, yet she had chosen to let Yuuri chase his dreams.

Last year, at this very aerie, Yuuri had nearly walked away from it all. In the middle of his performance, he had fallen and had scarcely managed to catch himself on a ring to avoid crashing headlong into the ground. Observers claimed they had seen a flash of light in the crowd just before Vicchan had reared back, but Yuuri was never able to confirm or deny that fact.

Others had said Yuuri started too late, that his career had reached its peak and he should take his failure as his sign to give up. Two and a half years of being in the top ranks and one fall had everyone questioning even his most basic abilities. His shame had almost driven him from the sport forever.

Instead, Yuuri decided to fight. Much in the way Victor had flown into the woods this year, Yuuri had taken his own escapist flight last year with nothing but Vicchan and a pray to keep him safe. Weaving through the trees, Yuuri had let the tarnish of failure fall away, dipping and diving to a rhythm of his own making. That flight reminded him of what he could do and when he returned to the aerie, he had made the decision to fight back against his naysayers and return the next year to prove them all wrong.

As the highest placing rider of the day, and current world-record holder in the sport, Yuuri had done just that.

If he left now it would be on his own terms, not because some idiots said he was washed up and couldn’t handle it. If he retired, it would be because his life had gained a new purpose, one that would fill his heart in a completely different way.

Leaning down to press a kiss to Makkachin’s beak, Yuuri felt her sigh breeze over his cheek. Neither of them could keep Victor in their lives, but they didn’t have to suffer through that pain alone. Firm in what his next steps would be, Yuuri continued to hold Makkachin as he waited for his father to return.

* * *

In front of the stable doors, Yuuri let his father pull him into a firm hug. Their conversation had been brief and hushed, Toshiya mostly listening and nodding as Yuuri explained his plan. Never one to argue with his son, Toshiya had spent his life letting Yuuri make his own decisions. Yuuri was extremely grateful to find that his father was still of this mindset even when the decision was life-altering.

They separated with tired waves as his father returned to his trailer and Yuuri headed to a much-needed and dreaded conversation with Celestino.

Opening the stable door, Yuuri found Celestino leaning on Vicchan’s stall laughing as Vicchan made obscene noises in the consumption of his breakfast. “Cheeky griffin,” Celestino teased, his smile bright even through the obvious exhaustion underneath.

Stepping to his coach’s side, Yuuri smiled at Vicchan while anxiously trying to gather his courage for the discussion that had to happen.

Celestino beat him to the punch. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Closing his eyes, Yuuri nodded.

“Even after… your parents told you about Victor, right?” Celestino was examining the side of his face, but Yuuri couldn’t find the will to turn.

Victor’s memory was tampered with and his mother had fixed it. That’s what his father had explained before Yuuri had brazenly announced his choice to return to his parents’ sanctuary instead of returning to his training aerie. The truth didn’t change Yuuri’s mind, in fact, it had served to cement why he had to walk away.

“I came here… to redeem myself from last year and that’s what I’ve done.” Welcoming Vicchan into his arms, Yuuri rested his forehead on Vicchan’s beak. “Makkachin needs me. And…”

“And knowing you can never speak to Victor again… that has nothing to do with this?” His question wasn’t unkind as Celestino reached to pet Vicchan’s head. “If it were me, I don’t know if I could handle that either.”

Surprised, Yuuri gaped at his coach for a minute before recovering his thoughts. “He… shouldn’t mean… so much to me,” Yuuri admitted, knowing that he couldn’t change his heart. Victor had a place there before they had ever spoken and that place had only grown. Now that he knew how it felt to hold Victor in his arms, there was no way Yuuri could continue to live with a reality where they could never be.

Celestino sighed in a way that told Yuuri there might be more to Celestino’s ability to understand Yuuri’s heartache. “You can’t control your heart, Yuuri. No more than Victor can control his. I wish I could’ve protected you from this. I wish…” Falling quiet, Celestino stepped away from Yuuri’s side. “You’ll always have a place with our team. It’s been a pleasure coaching you.” Holding out a hand, Celestino smiled when Yuuri shook it. “Take care of yourself.”

And just like that, he was gone.

* * *

The door banged open, rattling the nearest wall as Phichit stormed into their shared quarters. “Yuuri Katsuki!” he yelled, making Yuuri wince over top of his trunk. “Hey! Talk to me!”

Preparing himself for the worst, Yuuri let Phichit yank his shoulders backwards, spinning him around until he found himself crushed into a hug. Unsure what to do, Yuuri brought his hands to Phichit’s back and returned the embrace.

“You’re leaving me.” Phichit stated, pulling back to sadly peer at Yuuri. “Just… tell me _why_ …”

Leaning around Phichit, Yuuri caught the edge of the door and swung it closed. “They wiped Victor’s memory.” Waiting for the shock to fade from Phichit’s face, Yuuri took a seat on the edge of his bed. “My mom was able to repair it, but Victor has to act like she didn’t for his own safety. We can’t talk… at all… ever.” No matter how many times Yuuri had replayed this information in his mind it didn’t stop the unbearable sorrow it caused him. “My dad is taking Makkachin, she’ll be rehabilitated under his care… and hopefully… I’ll get her back to flying.”

“Yuuri…” Phichit reached for his hand and Yuuri allowed him to entangle their fingers as he bit back tears.

“I don’t regret it,” Yuuri felt Phichit squeeze his fingers and squeezed back. “No matter how much it… hurts… I don’t regret it. I wish that Victor and Makkachin had never gotten hurt, but I would rescue them both a million times over… even if this was always the end.” It was the truth, and Yuuri accepted this with all the parts of his broken heart. “I know now, how beautiful he really is… inside… he’s beautiful inside not just outside. What he has sacrificed, how strong he has been… I can’t give him anything… but I can be with Makkachin and help give her happiness and freedom… if that’s all I can do… well…”

“Don’t you think… what about when he retires? You could find each other then!” Phichit, the perpetual and beautiful optimist, was always looking for the happy ending, even in the most tragic of stories.

Letting go of Phichit’s hand, it was Yuuri’s turn to pull his friend into a hug. “Maybe someday,” he whispered, although he knew better than to wish for such luck. He let Phichit have his optimism though, thankful for the gift of Phichit’s friendship and hopeful that it wouldn’t end with Yuuri’s departure. Squeezing his best friend harder, Yuuri allowed himself to linger in the comfort of his closest friend a little longer.

* * *

A stack of papers sat on Victor’s lap, words swimming together as Victor read the terms of the contract Yakov had presented to him. Toshiya had already signed in his own spots and initialed all of the Federation’s required clauses about disclosing the past care and condition of Makkachin. The implications of those clauses made Victor’s stomach feel sour and he chose to ignore them as he forlornly applied his own signature and initials to all of the required lines.

“For what it’s worth…” Yakov started, his sentence halting when Victor shook his head. “I _am_ sorry, Vitya. For all of this.”

Victor didn’t want to hear Yakov’s apologies. He wanted to hear that there were going to be changes, that the Federation had learned something through all of this mess about appropriate behavior and how riders and animals should be treated. Knowing that they hadn’t and that they never world, Victor felt bitterer than he could ever remember feeling.

“I… there is an option… if you want to hear it…” The rare nervousness in Yakov’s voice made Victor pause in his signing, raising his head and his eyebrow in one single motion. “The Federation… they are willing… to make a trade of sorts.” Suppressing the hope that wanted to bubble within him, Victor waved a hand for Yakov to go on.

“You own… well… not an insignificant amount of our aerie. The Federation wants it back.” Yakov looked older and sadder than Victor wanted to acknowledge as he watched his coach struggle to put his words together. Yakov was never a man of hesitation and Victor could only imagine how bad the other half of the deal would be. “In exchange for what you own… they would give you… your freedom.”

_My freedom_ , Victor thought with not a small amount of venom. Because the Federation owned him and everything about him, except Makkachin, the aerie he had swept out from under them and the money from his parents that they still couldn’t figure out how to steal. Yet, they did own Victor and they controlled every part of his life to the point that they had been systematically destroying every happiness he had to keep him under their foot.

“There are conditions of course,” Yakov continued, the frown on his face implying his opinion of said conditions. “You couldn’t compete for any of our competitors and you couldn’t live with the team anymore. No more contact with anyone either. Including myself… and Lilia…”

There it was. The final blow the Federation had been threatening to swing for years. Freedom, but at the cost of everything and everyone Victor had ever known. They had torn him from his overly willing parents before his age had two digits, breeding him to be dependent on them for every aspect of his life. Now, they were graciously willing to give him his own life back, at the cost of absolutely everything in it.

Digging the pen into the papers in front of him, Victor signed the remaining pages of the contract with a scowl deep enough to leave wrinkles in its wake. Capping the pen, Victor slammed it onto his lap and then thrust the papers in Yakov’s direction. Silently, Yakov took them and walked out of the room.

* * *

The door swung open again within minutes of Yakov’s exit causing Victor to grumble, “I don’t want to speak to you,” under his breath. A haughty huff responded to his grumpy declaration and Victor twisted to discover Yuri once again standing at the foot of his bed.

“For the record, I don’t want to speak to you either.” Yuri dropped a folded paper on Victor’s lap and crossed his arms. “Yakov told us what’s up. About the Federation and their _deals_.” The word _deals_ was spoken as if it were a curse word and for once Victor appreciated Yuri’s unending teenage snark. “I thought… well I thought you might want to see that.”

Wrapping his hand around the fold of the paper, Victor lifted it to find a picture of Yuuri standing next to Vicchan with a shining trophy. The headline read “Death-defying fall leads Yuuri Katsuki to a record-breaking performance.” The first line read “Did Yuuri Katsuki break the world recorder of renowned flyer Victor Nikiforov with a performance dedicated to Victor Nikiforov? He absolutely did.”

Flipping the paper over, Victor tried to mask the shock shaking through him. “Why are you showing me this?” Perhaps after Yuri’s last few hours of loyalty Victor shouldn’t be doubting his teammate. Unfortunately, old habits of forced competitiveness died too hard.

“If you leave, I’m your replacement.” This information should have been shocking, yet Victor felt nothing. Yuri continued, “I can break his record. If it wasn’t for that stunt… and what people were calling romanticism… whatever _that_ is… I don’t think he would have scored that high. I’ll definitely beat him.”

“That’s it, huh?” Yuri’s false posturing was weakened by the way he wouldn’t make eye contact with Victor while talking. The boy was bold when he spoke believed truth, but in this, Victor saw there was more under the surface.

“Just read the article,” Yuri snapped, rolling his eyes as he headed for the door. “Paragraph three,” he said, almost so quietly Victor would have missed it if he hadn’t been studying the boy’s back. “Paragraph three is…” Not finishing the sentence, Yuri let his advice hang in the air as the door swung closed.

Willing his heart to stay at a steady rhythm, Victor unfolded the newspaper and began to read.

* * *

Standing to the side of the gravel path, Yuuri watched as his father settled Makkachin into their trailer, smiling when he heard his father singing a familiar lullaby as he covered her with blankets and filled the suspended feed bag. His mother busied herself at the front with their own griffins, securing bits and pressing strengthening kisses onto their beaks. She had spent her morning slyly removing all of the Federation’s holds on the local healers and seemed quite pleased with herself as she blew a kiss in Yuuri’s direction.

“Do you think we should wait a few more minutes?” Yuuri called to his father, glancing back again at the healing facility and wondering if Victor was still inside. The Federation’s caravan had begun their own loading over an hour ago, yet Victor hadn’t appeared to say goodbye to Makkachin. Part of Yuuri understood why he wouldn’t but he couldn’t help feeling disappointed on Makkachin’s behalf.

“Do you think they would allow him to come?” Toshiya asked, his eyes conveying his opinion even as his mouth worded his question.

“No,” replied a voice from the shadows, making them both jump. Yuri stood with his back leaning on the wall, patented scowl pressed across his face.

“That’s that then…” Yuuri shrugged, not feeling anywhere near as casual as he was trying to sound. Moving around his father, he ducked into the trailer and knelt by Makkachin’s side. “Be good, girl. I’ll be right behind you, ok? Then you, and me, and Vicchan… we’re going to have our own adventures.” Smiling through his heartache, Yuuri accepted Makkachin’s loving headbutt before rising to his feet to step back onto the path.

“You sure you can handle both of them?” Toshiya nodded toward Vicchan and the Pegasus grazing in the grass. “My girl didn’t want to be left behind, but now she seems eager to stretch her wings.”

Looking over his shoulder, Yuuri watched Vicchan and his father’s Pegasus begin to play, both of them kicking up grass and rolling together on their backs. Vicchan looked so happy and carefree that Yuuri couldn’t help feeling a little of that happiness inside of himself. “We’ll be fine, Dad. Right on your heels.”

“Alright, take care, son. And take your time. Detours never hurt anyone, alright?” Hugging Yuuri close, Toshiya thumped him once on the back. “See you soon.” With a nod in Yuri’s direction, Toshiya made his way to the driver’s bench.

As the black and blue trailer lifted into the sky, Yuri took a step closer. “The Federation gave him a way out.” Purposely keeping his eyes trained on the sky, Yuuri frowned in disbelief. “They said they would trade his aerie ownings for release of his contract. No competing anymore and no place to live, but he would be free.”

“Victor loves flying,” was Yuuri’s instant response, almost forgetting to avert his attention from the boy next to him. “He wouldn’t give that up.”

“He might… if the right person asked him.” Yuri remained in the shadows where it was impossible for Yuuri to interpret his facial expression.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Of all the things that Victor had lost, Yuuri couldn’t ask him to also give up his career. Victor was born to fly and he belonged in the air, no matter how much bullshit the Federation threw at him.

Kicking off the wall, Yuri dropped his arms. “Your loss then.”

Knowing that this loss was nothing compared to what Victor was losing, Yuuri turned his back on the younger rider and walked away to wrangle his griffin.

* * *

“Yuuri, listen to me, they’re leaving!” Phichit yelled, not for the first time since he had appeared with his own griffin at the grazing field. “He is leaving, their caravan is packed up. If you don’t go now… if you don’t at least see him… how will you know that he doesn’t feel the same? Do not miss your chance to tell him how you feel. Go, Yuuri, please! Go!”

“It’s not that easy, Phichit!” The exasperation exploded in every one of Yuuri’s words. For the first time in his life, Yuuri wasn’t doubting how Victor felt. His mother had told him what she had seen, how Victor’s entire aura had changed once he had regained his memories of Yuuri. _He loves you_ , she had said, with no small amount of adoration for the strength of that feeling.

His mother had meant to reassure him but had only further shattered his already splinted heart.

“Yuuri, please… just… go… “ Phichit pleaded, pushing at Yuuri’s back. “You’ll regret it if you don’t. You have no idea if you’ll ever see him again. Just please, Yuuri… please go.”

_He loves you_ , echoed his mother’s voice and suddenly Yuuri was running.

* * *

“Riders in!” Yakov barked, hand waving to the stragglers who were milling around as if they had all the time in the world. “For the love of God, get in the damn carriage!” he screamed, his temper snapping after too many hours of stress and not enough sleep.

From his spot on the gravel, Victor leaned on his trunk and observed the madness. He didn’t envy Yakov’s job of keeping them all in line and maybe he should tell him sometime soon how much he appreciated all of Yakov’s hard work.

“What’re you looking at?” Yakov quipped at him, lifting his hat to rub a palm over his forehead.

“The best coach in the world,” Victor answered with complete sincerity. Before Yakov could stop him, Victor caught him in a hug. “Thank you,” Victor whispered, clinging tighter than he had even as a child. “Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t mention it,” Yakov replied, the roughness of his voice a telltale sign of his own feelings. Ducking out of Victor’s arms, Yakov nodded at the carriage. “Come on now!” he yelled, returning to herding his unruly riders as if the hug had never happened.

* * *

Tearing down the gravel path, stones spit out from underneath Yuuri’s feet. He hurled himself toward the stable, catching the edge of the building with his bare hand and flinging himself around the corner. He stopped short at the sight of the auspicious carriages of red and white rising from their place in the dirt. The longest line of the largest Pegasi Yuuri had ever seen pulled the carriages upward, disappearing toward the sky and crushing all the remaining bits of Yuuri’s heart. 

Tears poured down his face, his heartbreak almost loud enough to make him miss the sound of a clearing throat.

Almost.

A sob caught in Yuuri’s chest as he spied Victor standing alone on the grass. Victor waved his hand, his other hand resting on his trunk. “You… I… what… you…” Stumbling forward, Yuuri tried to form any sort of reasonable sentence but was cut off in his stammering attempts when he was pulled into Victor’s embrace.

“I couldn’t go with them,” Victor stuttered, his hands gripping at the back of Yuuri’s coat. “Even if you didn’t… if you don’t… I couldn’t… go…” The fear of rejection rose to clench Victor’s throat closed, strangling his ability to say anything further.

“I love you,” Yuuri whispered. “Victor, I know about the Federation’s deal… if you walked away… Victor… I want you to come with me, I want you to be with me… And Makkachin... We can… find new dreams or no dreams… ” Pulling back, Yuuri could see the same loving hope reflecting in the blue of Victor’s eyes. “Please, if you want to. Only if _you_ want to.”

Holding Yuuri by the shoulders, Victor felt the cold air freezing his tears to his cheeks. The Federation had stolen everything Victor had, but nothing that he wanted. Here, in front of him now, was every offered dream Victor had never allowed himself to hope for. Shaking, he pressed his forehead to Yuuri’s and said, “I love you too, Yuuri… so much… and I want all of those things… with you… if you’ll have me-”

“Just kiss already!” Phichit yelled appearing at the side of the stable with two very curious griffins and one confused Pegasus. He waved happily when Yuuri shot him a warning glare.

Instantly, Yuuri forgot Phichit’s existence when Victor’s hands cupped his cheeks and angled Yuuri’s face toward his own. “May I?” Victor asked. Nodding, Yuuri wrapped his hands in the lapels of Victor’s coat and connected their lips together in sigh of happiness that neither of them could hold in.

Behind them, Phichit and all three of his accompanying animals celebrated loud enough for the entire aerie to hear.

* * *

They kissed until Vicchan had nudged the side of Yuuri’s head, intruding on their moment with demands of affection of his own. Though it wasn’t Yuuri he was seeking love from, which was made clear when he bumped Yuuri with his wing and presented his beak to Victor for petting.

Laughing, Victor stroked a gentle hand over Vicchan’s beak. “Thank you for being my hero,” he cooed, smiling brighter when Vicchan’s wings happily fluttered. “You’re so brave and so handsome too.”

“He’ll get a big head if you keep complimenting him like that,” Yuuri teased, ducking when Vicchan tried to whack him with a wing. He loved the way Vicchan was glowing under Victor’s attention and he wondered if his riding partner was going to be ditching him as soon as they got back. There should be jealousy in the thought, but all Yuuri could feel was brilliantly loving.

Victor pretended to ignore Yuuri’s teasing. “Don’t listen to him, Vicchan, your head is the perfect size. Isn’t that right, handsome?” Pressing kisses to Vicchan’s beak, Victor giggled when Vicchan snorted. “We’re going to be best of friends, aren’t we?” Both Victor and Yuuri laughed when Vicchan nodded dramatically.

A nip on Yuuri’s elbow brought his attention to his father’s Pegasus. They had allowed her to approach them in her own time, knowing that new people were sometimes a concern for her. With gleaming eyes, she extended her neck over Yuuri’s head and nosed at Victor’s hair.

Laughing at Victor’s shocked face, Yuuri petted the Pegasus’ strong neck. “Victor, this is my father’s Pegasus. Her name is Agape… it means-”

“Unconditional love,” Victor interrupted, raising a slow hand to offer it to Agape for inspection. His grin became blindingly brighter when she bowed her head to allow him to pet her.

Somehow, the sentiment felt perfectly right for that moment. Yuuri had understood why his father had picked the name, it was symbolic of the relationship between himself and the animal he had rescued. In a lot of ways, he had felt that same love from his family and from Vicchan, and at times even from his coach and teammates. He had never felt that love entangled with the feeling of being _in love_ and he felt lightheaded with the strength of the feeling as he watched Victor happily embrace both of his animals.

This man had given up his whole life to take a chance that Yuuri would accept him into his own. That kind of bravery and belief in love was overwhelming in the most beautiful way. Extending his hand, Yuuri tucked a strand of loose hair into Victor’s hat and smiled when Victor looked at him.

“Exactly… I mean… how are we getting back?” Victor asked, petting Vicchan and smiling happily as Agape rested her chin on his shoulder.

Titling his head, Yuuri almost laughed at his own lack of an answer. “Well… I was going to ride… but I don’t think that Vicchan should carry both of us for that long plus your trunk… and I don’t have a saddle for Agape...”

“We can help with that!” A cheerful voice called from the stable.

Shoulders bumping together, Victor and Yuuri turned to find Celestino and the rest of Yuuri’s team waving in their direction while Phichit proudly held a saddle over his head.

“Ever ridden a Pegasus before?” Yuuri asked, offering his hand to Victor.

Lacing their fingers together, Victor felt a little thrill at how perfectly they fit. “Can’t say that I have.” Looking over his shoulder, Victor grinned when Agape whinnied. “Whatdaya say, girl? Want to be my riding buddy?”

They both laughed as Agape excitedly nodded, trotting behind them beside Vicchan as they walked toward the stable and Yuuri’s cheering team.

* * *

At the edge of the aerie, Yuuri sat on Vicchan’s back. Next to him, Victor was leaning forward to whisper encouraging words in Agape’s ear. When he looked up, Yuuri’s heart fluttered with how beautiful Victor looked. “Ready to fly away with me?” he asked, relieved that the cheesiness of his question seemed to only increase Victor’s happiness.

“With you?” Victor teased, nudging Agape closer to Vicchan’s side. Curling his fingers into the front of Yuuri’s coat, Victor stole a quick kiss. “With you, I would fly anywhere.”

With shared smiles, they settled back into their own saddles. A nod shared between them and then they were airborne, diving off the side of the aerie’s deck and swooping over the tops of the highest trees.

Behind them, the past heartaches and struggles were left to freeze along with the vacant stadium.

To their right, was a cave that was small in build but large in the hope that it had brought to both of them.

To their left, were the broken shackles of Victor’s past life, happily gone but not yet forgotten.

And in front of them, highlighted by the beauty of the setting sun, was the hope of their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have read my other stories, you know that I don't tend to write a "fade to black" ending after a first kiss. Chapter 10 is definitely the happiest chapter of this entire story and a gift to everyone who lived through the angst of the first 8 1/2 chapters. 
> 
> (Also, Celestino dropped Victor's trunk to Yuuri's home because 1. He really likes Toshiya's liquor and 2. He is a sucker for all the randomly adorable animals that live at the sanctuary)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! It is finally the end!! This is a bit of a flash forward and also a look forward for what is in store for these two in their future. I truly hope that the conclusion of this story (both in chapter 9 and in this chapter) feels satisfying after the rest of it. Chapter 9 did make me cry in several places during the writing process, while this chapter had me smiling until my cheeks hurt. 
> 
> I really, really, really appreciate every single one of you who has taken time to read this story! At the end, there is a list of links to my other completed AUs, but I also have a lot of other works posted for YOI. And there is still more to come! I have 3 WIPs to finish and another chaptered fic to publish! I'm not finished with YOI yet! 
> 
> Big hugs and lots of love to ALL of you! Thank you for your support and patience - I couldn't have finished posting this without all of your awesomeness!! 
> 
> And another huge shoutout to my partner [shadhahvar](https://shadhahvar.tumblr.com) who had the incredible idea of making these two Griffin riders and letting me run wild with their ideas! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!

**Four Months Later**

The green of the sanctuary covered every hill and rolling valley as the last of the untraditional spring snow melted away to reveal the promise of summer. Flowers polka-dotted the land with their rainbow of colors, attracting the attention of all the free-roaming animals as tempting snacks in lieu of grass and their normal feed. Trees swayed with the gentle breeze, whispering their secrets to the wind as their leaves danced to their own song.

High above it all, two riders circled each other with practiced finesse before diving in perfect synchronization toward the ground.

Landing together, Yuuri and Victor both leaped from their griffins to throw themselves into each other’s arms. Looping his arms tightly around Yuuri’s waist, Victor swung him around with an elated squeal. “That was the best one yet!” he declared, flinging his goggles from his face and dipping Yuuri low to kiss him. “I’m telling you, we’re ready!”

Wrinkling his nose, Yuuri wiggled until he was safely back on his feet. “I think I was half a second behind you on the twist.” Always ready to criticize any tiny error, Yuuri anticipated Victor’s eye roll by shutting him up with a kiss.

“Are they always like that?” A voice asked, not directly addressing the kissing couple but catching their attention anyway.

“Always,” Mari answered, though the amusement and love was apparent in her smile as she nudged Yuri. “If you need to wipe the image clear from your mind, you can always dive headfirst into the hot spring. That’s what I do when they get really lovey dovey.”

Gaping at the individuals standing at Mari’s side, Victor released Yuuri and turned toward faces he never thought he’d see again. “What’re you doing here?”

“Spying on you.” This time it was Mila who spoke, although Georgi and Yuri were quick to laugh at the startled reactions which immediately appeared on Yuuri’s and Victor’s faces. “The Federation wanted to know what you were up to. I heard this place has awesome food and the best hot spring to ever exist. It wasn’t rocket science to take the job.”

Victor’s stomach sunk. Even though he had paid the price for his freedom, the Federation was still planning on keeping tabs on him. Although he was happy to see the only friends he had had for most of his life, he wasn’t sure he could handle the cost of the reunion.

“Don’t worry,” Yuri kicked at the dirt as he talked, “we’re going to stay a couple of days and then go back and tell them you’re pregnant or something.”

“What?!” Yuuri and Victor sputtered together, the absurdity of the statement not clicking as a joke until Mila, Georgi and Yuri burst into laughter.

“What Yuri means is,” Georgi flicked the back of Yuri’s ear, “that we are using this as an excuse to see you. And we’re going to go back and tell them that you’re living a life of luxury and have absolutely no interest in overthrowing them and taking down their entire corrupt ordeal.” Dodging Mila’s hand as it slapped out at him, Georgi smirked. “Except, I hope that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

This time it was Yuuri who laughed first, remembering the night that Victor had gotten drunk with his father and the two of them had formulated what they called a “war plan” to take down the Federation. Obviously, Victor knew exactly why Yuuri was laughing and his cheeks burned red as he wrapped his arm around Yuuri’s waist.

“Makkachin’s flying,” Yuri interrupted, seemingly still intolerant of adult tomfoolery. He was taller than he had been when Victor had last seen him, but still gangly in the limbs and still full of teenage hostility.

Stroking a hand down Makkachin’s neck, Victor grinned. “She is. Full recovery. And flying like a champ again.” Makkachin’s happy trill made all of them smile, even Yuri who seemed allergic to the expression on most days.

“So what were you doing?” Mila, always to the point and nosy to a fault, tapped her foot on the ground. “I’m not going to tell anyone mind you. I like the story of Victor’s pregnancy, it’ll really fuc-”

“Language!” Georgi reprimanded, slapping a hand over Mila’s mouth.

“Fucking come off it,” Yuri retorted, sarcastically slapping a hand over his own mouth before Georgi could do so.

“We’re synchronized riding!” Yuuri blurted, silencing the group with his outburst. Rocking back on his heels, Yuuri fiddled with his fingers. “Victor and I… um… we’re synchronized riding…”

The loophole had been a discovery of his very first riding coach, Minako, who had burst into his parents’ home during their first week back and declared that she had found a solution to a problem no one had been trying to solve. Slightly intoxicated, she had slammed a notepad onto the table between Yuuri and Victor and encouraged them to read through her notes.

Long ago, the Federation had declared synchronized riding teams as a frivolous and unrefined art form. They turned up their noses at the matching costumes and coordinating saddles and focused their attention on racing and solo performances. Synchronized teams performed on a difference schedule than the rest of the griffin riders and therefore were never in direct contact with any team that didn’t train riders for these specific events.

More importantly, synchronized teams could register independently for events and were not required to be a part of a larger aerie in order to qualify for competing performances.

Yuuri explained all of this and couldn’t help his amusement at the varying faces of Victor’s old teammates. Mila looked mildly confused, Georgi looked ready to swoon over the idea, and Yuri managed to look uninterested and impressed all at once. None of them looked like they were ready to hop on their griffins and fly home to tell on Victor’s plans so Yuuri counted that as a win.

During Yuuri’s explanation, Victor had listened intently to his love as if he was hearing all of the information for the first time. Months had gone into drafting and perfecting their routine, long days of practice followed by long nights of tweaking details. They studied the registration forms together and poured over every detail of Victor’s severance contract with the Federation. Every I was dotted and every T was crossed, making their plan full proof no matter what the Federation tried to pull.

Designing and creating new routines that highlighted both of their strengths was hard but the results were incredibly rewarding. For every day that he woke up sore from practice, there was a night where he got to fall asleep in Yuuri’s arms. For every minute they spent stressing about their timing, there was a minute of laughter over whatever stupid mistakes they had made. Through every hour of hard word, Victor found himself falling more deeply in love with the man currently shocking his friends into silence.

“Are male and male synchronized teams allowed?” Mila asked as the first one to recover from Yuuri’s news. “I thought teams were female and male.”

“It’ll be a first,” Victor shrugged, leaning his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder, “but there is nothing against it.”

“You’ll make history!” Georgi squealed, obviously no long worried about the Federation’s interests. “First male team!”

“First male married team,” Victor added, snickering by Yuuri’s ear when all of three of his former teammates gasped. Holding up his hand, Victor grabbed Yuuri’s wrist to make him do the same.

“See… they’re… a set…” Yuuri stammered, all of his confidence from a minute ago stolen by the comically raised eyebrows of Victor’s old teammates.

“Alright, alight, baby brother.” Mari held up her hands and stopped Yuuri mid-sentence. “I think you’ve blown their minds enough for today. How about I take them in and fatten them up so they float better in the water?” Chuckling dully at her own joke, Mari addressed the group of three. “Come on, I’ll show you where your griffins can get some pampering and then I’ll show you what real food tastes like.” Throwing a wink over her shoulder, Mari herded Mila, Georgi and Yuri away with their griffins in toe.

Wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist, Victor kissed each of Yuuri’s blushing cheeks. “I’m sorry, did I embarrass you? I couldn’t resist bragging about how lucky I am.”

Slapping his hands over his face, Yuuri curled into Victor’s chest. “You can’t just say things like that!” Although his ears were burning with embarrassment, Yuuri couldn’t hold in the smile that hadn’t left his face since the day Victor first kissed him.

“Come on, my love, let’s ride. Just for the fun of it.” Whistling, Victor called Makkachin back to his side and planted a kiss to Yuuri’s head before relinquishing his hold. Swinging into his saddle, Victor waited until Yuuri did the same. “Head for the water?” Victor asked, rolling his shoulders as Makkachin flexed her wings. Gone were the broken curve and mangled feathers, leaving behind only the memories of Makkachin’s injuries.

“Sure, after you,” Yuuri offered, slipping onto his own saddle and clicking his tongue to encourage Vicchan upward.

As they rose together, Yuuri lingered behind to watch Victor and Makkachin fly freely ahead. He remembered the day they had landed in the field and the way Victor had disembarked from Agape’s back before her feet were barely on the ground. Anxiously he had run toward the stable, calling Makkachin’s name until she had burst through the doors on her own accord and ran toward Victor with a vigor driven by pure happiness.

Everyone had cried, including Yuuri’s entire family who had run after Makkachin and promptly enveloped Victor and Makkachin into a group hug. They had adopted Victor on the spot and offered him the opportunity to move into the smaller house set at the back of the property. After three days, Yuuri had given up pretending that he wasn’t sneaking out to Victor’s house every night and had just moved in with him.

Their proposal had taken place on the very strip of beach where they were now headed, under the stars of the night sky and with the background music of the crashing waves. It had been Yuuri who had kneeled first, joined within seconds by Victor who withdrew a ring of his own from his jacket pocket. They exchanged rings and kisses on the beach while Makkachin and Vicchan looked on with loving approval.

With summer upon them and only a few months left before their first performance, Yuuri could feel the tension building. Unlike the night that Yuuri had stood alone in the snowy aerie, this tension felt new and hummed with excitement. This time he wasn’t alone in his quest for success and the fear of failure wasn’t quite so looming.

“Come on, slow poke!” Victor called into the wind, the happy lift of his voice carrying back to Yuuri as he leaned over Vicchan to spur him faster.

The sanctuary grounds swiftly moved out of sight as they raced each other over the open land toward a spot that they had claimed as their own. No one was there to tell them where to go or how to fly or give them any direction at all. The world may have existed beyond them, but all Yuuri cared about was that his whole world was flying next to him.

Victor and Makkachin were safe. They were happy and free. And together with Yuuri and Vicchan, they were about to show everyone what it meant to be a true griffin rider. Riders who put love above all else and embraced the harmony of their team.

The symphony of rolling waves greeted them as they landed on the sand, Makkachin and Vicchan running straight for the water as Victor and Yuuri sat down to cuddle in their usual spot.

Whatever life flung at them now, they would tackle it as a team. Inseparable, in love, and stronger than ever. Confident in what they had found in each other, Yuuri rested his head on Victor’s shoulders and let his eyes fall shut.

All was peaceful.

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider checking out my other fics!  
> If you want other completed AUs, I have several:  
> [Prize Fight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14161275/chapters/32640531) MMA AU - complete (also action/adventure)  
> [Be my chef, Yuuri](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10102205/chapters/22504352) Restaurant AU – complete  
> [Law Firm of Katsuki, Nikiforov & Chulanont](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084109/chapters/24724854) Law Firm AU – complete  
> [Duetto](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17273291) \- High School Band vs. Chorus AU – complete  
> [Katsuki’s Pet Needs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11403003/chapters/25540758) \- Pet Store AU – complete  
> [When Bloggers Fall in Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16284383/chapters/38083160) \- Bloggers AU - complete  
> [Love and Puns](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921047) Chemistry Partner AU – complete  
> [Stick with Me series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1085361) College Jock Yuuri and Genius Victor AU - complete  
> [Crash Into Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12527876/chapters/28528088) Alternate Meeting (still ice skaters) AU - complete  
> [Finding Our Way](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15437370) Soulmate AU – complete  
> [Come Alive](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17295020) Living Statue/Journalists AU - complete  
> [The Greatest Gift](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19151827/chapters/45518551) \- Another Alternate Meet AU in Canon Universe (still skaters) - complete


End file.
